Things that Matter
by Arjen
Summary: BtvS,Noir,Dark Angel. Different timeline in the Black Sunrise series. When Ames White finds a clue to the whereabouts of his son, he needs a distraction to keep Max unaware. Hiring an assassin to take her out seems like the thing to do.
1. Prologue

**Title: Things that Matter**

**Author: Arjen**

**Length: 150.000+**

**Summary: When Ames White finds a clue to the whereabouts of his son, he needs a distraction to keep Max unaware. Hiring an assassin to take her out seems like the thing to do.**

**Pairings: Nothing that isnâ€™t canon.**

**Rating: This story contains graphic violence and might not be suitable for young children.**

**Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Noir/Dark Angel**

**Chronology:  
Black Sunrise  
The Day After  
Dark, Darker, â€¦ (goes AU during third chapter)  
Things that Matter**

**Disclaimer: All characters and other recognizable things are property of Mutant Enemy, ADV films, Cameron/Eglee productions, Fox entertainment and whoever else wants to lay claim to them. Everything that I thought up is made using their property so I canâ€™t really claim that either.**

**Feedback: Preferably constructive criticism, tell me what Iâ€™ve done right and wrong and Iâ€™ll be happy. Flames I consider as written by five years old who according to that ridiculous rating system arenâ€™t allowed to read this.**

**Background: Dawn was created early and the monks werenâ€™t stupid enough to lead Glory directly to her. During Halloween â€™97 she was possessed by Kirika from Noir. Afterwards she retained the memories of this assassin and had gained knowledge of the supernatural. This story diverges from the main Black Sunrise storyline after the second chapter of Dark, Darker, …**

**X.X.X indicates a change of POV**

**….… is just a scene change**

**Prologue**

_One event.  
One choice.  
One decision._

_Sometimes, the small things do indeed matter most.  
Sometimes, obeying the rules has the wrong consequence.  
Sometimes, you wish things had gone differently._

_Somewhere they did.  
Somewhere Dawn had followed the Scoobies when they went to that church.  
Somewhere she had cut the assassin's throat._

_But not here._

_Here the assassin had lived.  
Here the assassin had wanted revenge.  
Here the assassin had succeeded._

_Then there were two funerals.  
Then there had been only a grieving daughter, a grieving sister.  
Then a young girl had moved away from the Hellmouth._

_Two years later the girl still lived with her father.  
Two years later a military experiment killed its creator.  
Two years later the girl visited the memorial for the town that had been bombed._

_She had lost family.  
She had lost friends.  
She had lost everything, twice._

_Hatred, for the magic that had caused her to be what she was.  
Hatred, for the military that had taken her friends.  
Hatred, for the ones who had taken her family._

_Eventually her actions were noticed.  
Eventually her actions inspired fear.  
Eventually she once more became the best._

_Nobody knew who she was.  
Nobody knew why she did it.  
Nobody knew how she did it._

_But everybody knew what she was called._

_Noir had become real.  
Noir was the maiden with black hands.  
Noir governed death._

_In 2009 a woman moved to Paris.  
In 2009 a genetically enhanced girl escaped from a military installation.  
In 2009 terrorists detonated a nuclear instrument over the Atlantic Ocean._

_Twelve years later the escaped girl had grown up.  
Twelve years later the girl had been recognized as a danger.  
Twelve years later an international phone call was about to be made._

"Otto, have you found a way yet?"

"No sir. There is no way for us to get inside the barricade." Ames White wasn't happy with that comment, but realized he couldn't let his anger show. He and his team had been busy cleaning up the abominations that had infested the city but the Conclave was pressing him to get rid of 452.

"There must be a way to get inside. If she's gone the rest will probably try to disappear again. And then we can take them out as well."

"Gone, sir? You mean to kill her?"

Actually Otto, eventually yes, but your primitive brain would never understand my reasoning for it. "Our job is to capture them Otto, everything after that is up to the courts." And since they were in the pay of the Conclave he didn't have to worry about that. None of the freaks would survive if it was up to him, but for that to work 452 needed to go first.

After the fiasco at Jam Pony, the Conclave had decided he should do it alone. The Phalanx had been recalled and had most likely suffered its own punishment, which was only more than fair, but left him to work with these lesser beings. How they expected him to achieve his goal without any decent help was a complete mystery to him, but it wasn't his place to question.

Otto's voice then shook him out of his musings. "Of course sir, I never meant to imply anything else."

"I know that, you're a conscientious officer." And that was part of the problem. Had Otto been someone with the desperate need to see every single one of the abominations dead, they might have been able to work something out. Unfortunately though, that wasn't possible, and he'd just have to make sure his subordinate didn't notice the less legal ways he sometimes used to achieve his goals.

Every time he thought of the abomination that had taken his son away from him he felt his blood boil. Killing her was one command from the Conclave he would execute with more than a little pleasure. The only problem he had with the order was that he had no intention of actually carrying it out until he knew where Ray was. After all, he knew of only two people that were aware of Ray's whereabouts, and she was one of them.

Walking to his office Ames pondered plan after plan; there had to be a way to get the knowledge about his son's location. The only other person than 452 who was aware of his son's location was that annoying Eyes Only.

And even there it was obvious who the greater danger was of the two, 452, and he longed for the day he could squeeze her throat shut and watch her suffocate. Would killing her convince Eyes Only to tell him?

No, he shook his head as he sat down. The terrorist had undoubtedly been informed by 452 of what was going to happen to humanity. So he must also know that she was the only thing left to stand between the Conclave and the total destruction of humanity. In that case the threat to kill the man was useless, as Eyes Only knew that surviving Ames would only cause greater suffering later.

There had to be another way, if only he'd be able to get his hands on the abomination. If he'd have the time he'd get her to talk within hours, her kind was after all still weak when it came to resisting pain. That had been proven during that short time she'd been his captive. But as she was holed up in Terminal City Ames knew he might never get that chance. On his own he was more than able to get in and out the territory of the freaks, but not while carrying her.

A simple assassination wouldn't be that much of a problem if he'd really put in the effort, but he still had the same problem with that. Continuing to come up with, and dismiss, new possibilities, he looked up when a knock on his door broke the silence in his room.

"Yes?"

The door opened to reveal Otto, carrying a packet. "This just arrived for you, sir."

"Fine, put it on my desk." Not paying any more attention to the departing man he opened the small parcel and was almost shocked when he saw what it contained.

At the top of the package was an envelope, but Ames put that aside as he noticed what lay beneath it. Photographs, photographs of Ray as he was going to a school, as he was playing with friends, and together with the woman he recognized as Wendy's sister. Reverently he let his hands wander over the smooth surfaces depicting his son. "Ray." It really was him; there was no doubt in his mind that this time he'd found his son.

Resisting the urge to look through the rest of the package, he instead opened the envelope and inside he found a small note simply saying 'Is this him?' and the telephone number of one of the private detectives he had hired.

He had made sure they knew not to contact him directly, until they were absolutely certain they had found Ray, and this one clearly hadn't wanted to risk his anger.

Taking out his cellphone he called the man.

"Yes?" The deep voice on the other side of the line answered him.

"It's White. I just received your package."

"Was I right? Is that the boy you were looking for?"

"Yes. Now tell me where he is and I'll deal with it from there."

"There was mention of a bonus I believe?" Primitives, always concerned about their stupid money. He'd used the funds of the Conclave to pay them, but it wasn't as if taking a little more from them would enhance his current risk.

"You'll get your money, now tell me, where is my son?"

It was minutes later, when he had finally received extensive directions to the place where his son was currently hidden from him, that he hung up the phone. He had made up his mind; he'd take a couple of days off while he'd go looking for his son. The NSA wouldn't be bothered by it; in fact he had the sneaking suspicion that some of his subordinates would welcome the reprieve. The only problem might be the Conclave, but he was sure that could be worked around.

And then of course, there was still the matter of 452 and Eyes Only. If they'd get even a hint he had left to collect Ray they would warn his sister-in-law, and the bitch would go back to ground. That wouldn't do. He needed to cause a distraction that would keep them away from him.

His previous musings about killing them came back but he dismissed the idea. He wouldn't be able to get both of them at the same time and the survivor might send a warning just to spite him. No, he needed something else, or, Ames suddenly realized, he would have to do it in a way that wouldn't lead them directly to him.

If only there was a way to actually do it in such a manner that they wouldn't have any evidence linking him to it. But he had been set out as the sacrificial sheep. All the other Familiars were currently out of sight, even those who had previously made public appearances had pulled back to protect themselves from the fallout. Using a Familiar wouldn't have ensured they didn't find out about the connection anyway, but there was another way. There always was another way.

If he couldn't use people like himself to get rid of 452, maybe there was another kind of people that he could use. Expendable and weak they might be, but he didn't care about that. Once he had his son back he'd be able to finish the job these people would start. And as most of the freaks themselves were assassins it was almost poetic justice to use one in an attempt to kill them.

A smile broke out on his face as he realized this solution to all his problems. He'd get Ray back, there was a possibility the assassin would actually succeed, and there was no way anyone would actually be able to blame him for what would happen. He got up from his desk in order to lock the door before walking to the windows and closing them.

With everything closed, and no air-conditioning, he knew that the air inside the small office would quickly turn far too stale for his sensitive nose. But he didn't dare take the risk that anyone might overhear the conversation he was about to have. The NSA would never approve of him hiring someone to kill 452, after all there was the risk it might end up as public knowledge, which would mean a Public Relations disaster. And if the Conclave found out he'd hired an outsider he would be lucky to walk away with all his limbs, let alone his life. Those were small risks however, especially compared to what he'd gain if the plan worked.

When he was finally satisfied that he had made the room as safe as possible for what he needed to do, he took out the address book that contained the telephone numbers for this sort of situation. He had collected them over the years and he was fairly certain a number of them wouldn't work anymore, but that didn't matter.

This job required the best and when it came to the best there was a very short list indeed. Picking up the telephone he started dialing a number in Paris. Despite the small amount of extra personal risks, it was always useful to hire someone that would be as driven to succeed in the mission as he himself would have been.

_Sometimes the world is a dark place.  
Sometimes it's the bad guys who make the rules.  
Sometimes people should have known better._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_November 1997_

Rain… The one thing she would always remember was the rain, the constant downpour of water.

It hadn't been raining when Buffy arrived home after she had rescued Angel from Spike and Drusilla. The weather had been nearly perfect at the time; it wasn't until a week later that the rain started.

Like everything else, it started innocuous, one day her mother had been late in coming home, but when they called to the Gallery there was no answer. That wasn't a problem, the two sisters told each other, it probably meant their mother had just left and would arrive any moment now. They waited ten minutes; ten became fifteen and they remained optimistic; but when after half an hour she still hadn't arrived the two of them really started to worry.

Buffy decided she would go looking for her while Dawn would stay home, just in case their mother happened to arrive while she was outside looking for her. But at the very moment that Buffy stepped out of the door Dawn knew what was going to happen. And, when at the same moment a rainstorm broke loose, her heart moved to her throat.

Still, she tried to convince herself that everything was alright. Mom probably only had a flat tire and hadn't had a chance to call them. But in this town even a flat tire might mean death. It was dark and there were vampires out there. Please Buffy, hurry up and find her quickly.

Time passed and she kept ignoring the gnawing feeling in her stomach. Everything would be alright. Looking at the clock Dawn realized that her mother was now over an hour late and Buffy had gone out almost thirty minutes ago. Something was wrong, something had gone horribly wrong and she was just sitting there. And it wasn't long before she just couldn't stand it anymore.

Dawn stood up from the couch where she had been worrying and went to her room to get her knife. Hiding it under her jacket, but still within easy reach, she then slipped out into the downpour. Within moments, her clothes stuck to her body and she probably looked like a drowning kitten. But that was inconsequential.

Her minds were in total agreement about what was likely to have happened. Her mother and sister were in mortal peril, and she just hoped she'd get there in time to rescue them.

Not once did she think about asking for help, and years later she would still be wondering if that might have made a difference. Maybe if she hadn't waited so long before going after her sister, or if she'd called Giles, maybe even Xander or Willow. And what would have happened if she hadn't gone home that night, when Kendra had collected the others in order to rescue Buffy from her own follies?

Everybody always wonders, what if? Everybody knows the past can't be changed and yet, everybody keeps wishing there was a way to do so. That night however she didn't wonder. She was scared; scared that once again she might lose the people that she cared about most. And therefore, while running through the night, she subconsciously allowed her body to follow the commands of the Kirika personality. That night, nothing could hear her, nothing could see her, and nothing would dare to try to stop her.

Then the world crashed to a sudden halt.

She could see three people, two that she knew very well and someone she had only heard described. Two who were dead and one who should have been.

"No." The word escaped her and her arrival was finally noticed by the assassin.

"Ah, the last one. The professional, at least according to Norman." The smile on the woman's face was meant to enrage her, and if it hadn't been for the watch it would have worked. But the watch was there, the fake watch that calmed her down.

But even that enforced calm wouldn't be enough this time around. She knew the techniques, she knew how to kill the woman in front of her; she just didn't have a body actually capable of doing it. Tonight, she realized with sudden clarity, all the Summers women would die. It didn't matter if her body lived through the night. With her mother and sister dead it was unlikely she would come out of the night as the same person.

Slowly it started happening then. Staring at the ground she could feel the change coming over her, no half measures this time around. She would fight like she had been taught to fight; she would kill like she was born to kill. And she was completely confident in the knowledge that nothing could possibly stop her from doing so. The agony of loss, that moments ago had filled her entire being, lost its significance. Even the hatred for the target in front of her disappeared into the emotionless void as she raised her slitted eyes to look at the target's face.

Eyes that she knew were as expressionless as the rest of her body, eyes that later would hide her black soul behind a screen of sadness and innocence. And, as she felt the world focus on that tiny part where she was now standing, Dawn knew that while she would no longer exist, something very much like her would.

They must have stood there in the pouring rain, silent and unmoving, for several minutes before one of them finally made a move. It had been the target who moved first, maybe she had been unnerved by the total lack of any response, or even feeling, on Dawn's face, but that didn't matter. She used a gun, but that didn't matter either. All the odds were in the target's favor but none of that mattered.

She should have made her move the moment Dawn arrived. The taunting and the long wait before she acted had been her biggest, and last, mistake. That time had been all that was needed. Dawn was no longer the personality controlling her body. Every muscle, every single nerve, had come under control of Kirika. The target thought she was facing a little girl who knew how to throw a knife; Kirika knew she was facing a fellow assassin. But Kirika also knew that no simple assassin could possibly stand against the True Noir.

The gun's movement seemed to be so incredibly slow and she could almost imagine hearing the exact moment the target pulled the trigger, the moment that the cordite ignited, and even the sound of the bullets speeding through the air. Bullets that were aimed at a place where she was no longer standing.

Hitting the ground in a smooth roll, Kirika had the knife in her hand before she was even back on her feet. The target was turning in an attempt to adjust her aim, but wasn't nearly fast enough.

In this heightened state of awareness Kirika could almost see the individual raindrops as they slowly made their way to the ground. And when the knife left her hand it seemed to cut through the raindrops as it too moved in slow-motion. However, she only spent a moment watching the knife fly, as she knew that it wouldn't be the end of the fight. She might have killed her target instantly, but she couldn't take the risk of being unarmed if her only knife missed the heart. A knife that couldn't be as accurate a weapon as a real throwing knife.

By the time she heard the impact of the knife she had already reached Buffy's body, and didn't pay any attention to the surprised cry of pain, followed shortly by the sound of someone falling to their knees. The target should have known better than to cry out anyway. Sure hands quickly found what she was looking for, and she grabbed the wooden stake that she knew her sister would be carrying.

Turning around she saw exactly what she had expected to see. The target was on her knees and holding her chest, a chest that was now decorated with a firmly embedded knife. Obviously it had missed the heart, but tearing it out would cause the lung it was embedded in to collapse. Triggering a race between two causes of death, the collapsed lung or the loss of blood.

"I should have killed you when I saw you," the target breathed heavily, while once again moving to aim her gun. But Kirika hadn't remained standing there, and instead of answering such an obvious statement she increased her speed to ensure she didn't make the same stupid mistake.

The target was desperately trying to bring the gun up before Kirika reached her, but they were too close and Kirika too fast to get a clear shot. It was obvious to both combatants that the weapon was useless in the fight that would follow. In order to stand a chance the target let the gun fall to the ground while reaching for the knives she'd hidden elsewhere.

Neither of them had a choice about what was going to happen. The target couldn't run away, or shoot Kirika. Kirika on the other hand was filled with determination to kill the target and wouldn't let anything stop her.

Even so, it seemed to take an eternity before Kirika finally reached her target. A target who during that time had once again started to rise to her full length while making the first move in the dance to kill each other.

Maybe the target still believed a little girl couldn't possibly kill an assassin of the Order of Teraka, even a wounded one. And she was good. Nothing that had been sent after a Slayer could be anything but good, as her skill would need to compensate for the greater physical abilities the Slayer had. But she wasn't nearly good enough.

Kirika had killed her partner's parents at an age when most people are still struggling in an attempt to learn how to write. She had been trained how to fight practically from the moment she was born. Her entire training had been based upon facing people who were stronger, faster, bigger and heavier. In fact, she had been taught how to face people like the one now standing in front of her.

And she had been everything her teachers could have possibly wished for.

The fight itself was one thing she would never be able to clearly remember, not even in the moments immediately after she had plunged the stake into the target's heart. But the expression of pain and surprise, that adorned the former target's face as she crashed to the ground, would remain with her forever. With the death of her target came no relief of the pain for her though, nor a lessening of the grief.

Standing there crouched over the corpse she still didn't feel anything, as if the demise of her family had taken that ability away. Before walking away, Kirika took the ring from the assassin's finger and, after checking the corpse for anything useful, she collected the weapons. Except for the stake embedded in the assassin's chest. After wiping her fingerprints from it she left that as the only silent witness to her Pyrrhic victory.

And all the while the rain continued its steady fall.

When she arrived home she didn't think about what she needed to do. All the actions that needed to be taken were automatic, so without any regard for modesty she took off her clothes and put them in a plastic bag. Walking through the house naked, she went outside and placed it with the other garbage in the backyard, where nobody would notice it. The garbage would be collected the next day and nobody would ever know she'd had bloodstained clothes.

Dripping wet, but ignoring the cold, she walked back inside and took a shower. Once cleaned up she treated the minor wounds the former target had inflicted upon her. And only then, clean of anything that might connect her to the scene of the crime, did she take care of the weapons. She had no immediate use for the gun and so disassembled it and hid the parts in different places of her room. Her own knife went back to its usual place, caring for it would come later, and she put the ones she'd taken next to it.

With her mind still working more or less on automatic Dawn ate some bread in order to quiet her rumbling stomach, before cleaning the house. She had been walking through it completely soaked and she had no intention of having anyone question her about where the drops of water had come from.

It was only then, when there wasn't a single trace of evidence connecting her to the fate of the assassin, that she called Giles.

"Hello?"

She couldn't be totally emotionless in this conversation so she let herself slip slightly out of that state. Just enough for her to know what emotions she ought to project, but not enough to actually be overwhelmed by them. "Mister Giles?"

"Dawn? What is it? Are you alright?" He sounded worried so she must have used the correct tone of voice.

"It's mom and Buffy. They're not home yet."

"How do you mean?"

"Mom was late but we couldn't reach her, and then Buffy went out to look for her, but she hasn't returned either and I don't know what to do now."

"Your mother and Buffy are both missing?"

"Yes. Please, could you go and find them? I'm afraid something might have happened to them."

The British man tried to calm her down, not realizing that it wasn't necessary. "I am sure they will both be fine, Dawn. Can you tell me when this happened?"

"Mom had to be home two hours ago and Buffy went looking for her after she was thirty minutes late. Please go and find them." The pleading note in her voice was how she figured any terrified teenager would sound like.

"That long? Why didn't you call sooner, no wait, that is not important. I will go and try to find them now, why don't you call Willow or Xander and ask them to come over?"

"I-I'll do that. Thank you Mister Giles." And with that she hung up the phone. The conversation had been more difficult than she had imagined. It seemed that only pretending to feel the emotions wasn't possible, a minor feedback occurred nonetheless, and for a moment she had been on the verge of admitting that she was already aware they had died.

The next hours passed in a blur. She remembered when Willow and Xander arrived to support her. She remembered that Giles had come to the house in the company of police officers, and how she had broken down despite the fact that she had already known about the fate of her loved ones. The platitudes of the officers didn't help her, nor did the comfort that the others offered her. Phone calls needed to be made but they could wait. Her father didn't need to be informed until the next day about what had happened to his ex-wife and oldest daughter.

Someone, she never found out who, had called her friends though, and before long both Jane and Sarah were standing at her door. The adults talked about the things that needed to be done and questioned her decision that her father shouldn't be informed yet. But she remained adamant about that; she had no wish for another adult to come to Sunnydale that night. There was something she still needed to do, and the fewer people she needed to dodge the easier it would be.

Uncounted minutes later she was staring out of her bedroom window, into the dismally black, rainy, night, when she realized that she knew. She knew why they had died. She knew who had killed them. She knew who had hired the assassin. And most importantly, she knew what she was going to do about it.

….…

The next morning she quietly made her way out of the door. Everybody had stayed over but by now they had all fallen asleep, something she couldn't do until she had finished her mission. The moment she stepped outside she was once again soaked, but even the rain wouldn't stop her from doing what needed to be done. Mister Giles' car was parked in front of their house, and she quietly loaded everything she needed into it.

They had always known where the vampires stayed, but had never undertaken any direct action. She was certain there were reasons for it, but at that moment she didn't care about what they might be. It should have been done before, but since it hadn't she would now be the one to do it.

Approaching the warehouse, she wondered about the entrances. Surely there had to be a way for the vampires to get inside while the sun was up? A cellar, maybe an entrance to the sewers a voice seemed to whisper in her head. Was the fact that she was hearing voices an indication of madness? She shrugged the thought off; it didn't matter if she was going crazy.

Nothing mattered right now.

Nothing, except for the mission.

She soon found a manhole and moved the lid onto the street, she was using her muscles in a capacity that shouldn't have been possible, and she was sure she'd suffer the consequences later. But for now it was a simple case of mind over matter.

Inside the stinking sewers she soon found the only other way the vampires could get out of the warehouse. A manhole linking the building directly to the sewers. That was alright. She had been prepared for something like that. Buffy's weapon chest had contained many useful things, including religious icons. Crosses had seemed to be her sister's favorites, but there were others as well.

It didn't take long for her to put them in useful positions. Stepping back once she'd completed that task, she looked over what she had built. For any vampire to step in there it would mean excruciating pain. Buffy might be dead, but for now her spirit would live on in this task that would avenge her. She shook her head to dispel this crazy idea of taking the easy way out. This was all her, her sister had nothing to do with it.

Forgetting where she was, she took a deep breath. The sudden invitation for the terribly smell in the sewer was taken up and she had to do her best not to betray her position as she fought the urge not to vomit. She needed to hurry up. The crosses and such were nice, but would do nothing to stop the vampires from escaping what she'd planned for them. To accomplish that she needed other supplies, and she quickly moved to get them from the car.

Back in the sewers, she walked back to the manhole while taking along the drenched cords. Putting the bottles, cans, and other closed items containing combustibles around the crosses she placed the ends of a cord in each one. Alcohol was liberally sprinkled on everything until the smell was heavy enough to drown out even the environment. And only then did she put the last item down. It wasn't all that much, but without any remote detonators it would have to do.

What seemed like only moments later, she was once more standing in front of the warehouse. She had never actually done anything quite like what she was about to do. She could remember killing countless humans, but always in a direct manner, this time she would use a tool that couldn't be controlled. The rain didn't make it any easier, but it didn't matter, Dawn thought, or was she Kirika now? The distinctions between them seemed to have evaporated. The shock of everything that had happened the night before had probably been enough to speed up the merging process.

Dawn walked to the car, and started taking out the rest of what she'd brought. It was amazing how many combustible things a common household contained. From bottles of alcohol to cleaning fluids, all of them were highly flammable and, in this case, very useful.

And once the building was burning it didn't take all that long before the vampires started to try to escape. Over the radio, one of a pair she'd found among her own toys, she could hear the sudden sounds of screaming as the first vampire encountered the crosses. That was her signal.

Striking a match she held it against the cords that led down the manhole from where she was standing and waited for the inevitable. The little blue flame quickly made its way down into the sewers and in the direction of the surprised vampires. These stupid creatures were trying to remove the crosses so that they could quickly get away, but didn't pay any attention to the other things that she had placed there.

Not even when the flame reached them and split up in different directions did they realize what was about to happen. To the vampires it only seemed like another useless attempt to kill them. The flames didn't care about their opinion and continued merrily on, already starting to ignite the alcohol and making their way to the explosive containers awaiting them.

The explosion was clearly audible over the roaring fire, and Dawn knew for a fact that no vampire would try to go out that way again. Sooner or later they would try to get out by the only way that was left to them, the main entrance. So she stood there, warmed by the fire that would soon attract the attention of the fire brigade.

"The Green Lady." The shocked words came from a vampire who was carrying the one she knew was called Spike. She had no idea why the creature would call her the Green Lady but like everything else, it didn't matter.

She could use every hand-held weapon designed by man, and today she was so focused that nobody would be able to beat her in a fight. Dawn pulled the crossbow's trigger and, had she been able to do so, would have felt satisfaction when the bolt pierced the vampire's heart.

"Dru!" The heartrending cry came from the other one. Her main target. He fell down to the ground and she could see how it hurt him. More importantly, she could see that he was unable to walk away from her.

That didn't mean he gave up. Even using only his arms, a vampire can move pretty fast and this one didn't care about anything but revenge. Unfortunately for this one, he wasn't the only one. She didn't go for the painful option very often but in this case Dawn wanted her target to suffer.

The death of his mate had started that, but she would never make the mistake of leaving him alive. After all, she was the living proof of how dangerous someone like that could turn out to be. Burning to death is one of the worst ways to go and she had no intention of letting him off any lighter than that.

For this purpose she had saved one bottle. A bottle of the finest brandy. She would have preferred to use a certain bottle of wine. There was a bottle of good wine, a bottle that her parents had bought the year her sister had been born. A bottle that had been meant to be opened only on Buffy's wedding day. But wine wouldn't do for this purpose; and, while there wasn't as much sentimental value to the brandy, it too came from that same year.

Lighting the piece of cloth that was now sticking out of the bottle Dawn sadly reflected on the knowledge that she would never drink this, or anything else, at her sister's wedding. But she could at least make certain it was to be used in a manner her sister would definitely approve of.

She lobbed the Molotov cocktail at the crouching vampire.

She watched it explode and distribute its burning liquid all over the creature's body. Emotionally she remained empty, even while the vampire was screaming in pain and trying to douse his burning body. But when the vampire finally burst into ashes she got out of her seeming paralysis and moved to collect what remained of both Spike and Drusilla. Only once she'd put some of the ashes of both creatures in two small vials did she walk back to the car so she could drive back home.

And the heavens continued their own weeping for the fallen.

When she returned nobody asked her where she had gone. Nobody even asked her where she had learned to drive. Everybody understood that she had needed some time alone. It was only later that day, when they heard about the fire, that she received some questioning glances. But nobody voiced their questions.

….…

Days passed. Her father arrived, the funerals were arranged, theories about how her mother and sister had died were mentioned, but, as expected, no witnesses had come forward.

People in Sunnydale didn't go outside to investigate strange noises during the night, and while her father was angry about it, Dawn didn't care. Those responsible were no more. She was certain of that and she knew that some of the people around her had an idea of how those people had died. But none of them dared mention it.

It was a double funeral. Two caskets would be lowered side by side. And, to continue the theme, it rained.

People made speeches, but she remained silent. There was only one thing she wanted to say and that could wait a while. She stood there silently until they all thought it was over. People had expressed their grief and it was now time to go home and remember all the good things about those wonderful people who had died.

It was only then that she moved. The caskets had been lowered but no dirt had been shoveled on them yet. She walked until she stood exactly between them. The scent of the grass and dirt wafted up her nose and she could feel everybody staring at her. But that didn't matter.

Dawn kneeled between the two graves and held out her hands, so that one was over each grave. She turned her hands until all those behind her could see the glass vials containing the ashes of those responsible for this funeral. She didn't pay any attention to the gasps from those who now understood. They might have suspected but it would have still been hard to believe. The tubes dropped into the graves and she spoke only one single word before turning around and leaving, clearly showing the single golden ring she carried on a necklace.

"Aequitas." Justice.

* * *

Post-fic comments: Chapters in this story are posted on a weekly basis, don't forget to review. 


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_June 10, 2021_

Seattle, the Emerald City. She was finally going to be involved with the mess that had been created there. It had been only a matter of time, of course; sooner or later someone would have tried to hire her, for one side of the conflict or the other. And now that had happened, freeing her to do what needed to be done.

As a professional she couldn't go anywhere uninvited, her clientèle would never approve of that, and then she might lose them. But all of her clients knew her rules, and it was because of following those self-imposed rules that she was now allowed to go back to the United States of America.

Back to the country where people died, where part of her was born, and where the military kept trying to mess up the world. She didn't want to go there because of the memories, but memories also made her want to go back. Memories that were both good and bad. The internal conflict was one of the main reasons she didn't dare go back there, but what she wanted didn't matter. Nothing had ever really mattered since the rain.

But once again it was up to her to clean the mess, so clean it she would.

White had wanted her to kill what he thought of as the leader of the so-called transgenics. Which meant that she would now read up on this 452 and her friends. Most of the information Dawn had about the girl had been collected during the past months. After all, if she knew that was going to be hired anyway, it was logical that she'd be prepared before it even happened.

A genetically enhanced killing machine who hated guns. According to the information she'd gathered, that hatred was caused by one of her teammates being shot by the base-commander. When that happened her unit ran for it. They escaped the base and went to ground.

The information she had collected stopped there. For the next decade there were only rumors, rumors about children exhibiting feats they couldn't possibly be capable of. There were so many that it became impossible to figure out which ones were about 452, or Max Gueverra as she was also known. Some of the sightings she had been able to confirm as one of the escaped X-5s, but they were mixed up with the usual suspects as well.

The 2015 sighting in Chicago had been a Slayer, the rumors that enthralled most of Houston in 2016 had been a pack of vampires and that was just the confirmed supernatural stuff. And of course, besides the supernatural, there had also been the projects other governments had set up, like the Red Series.

All in all, the whole situation was one big mess in which it was impossible to find a single empowered person. The only positive thing about the area she had to search, was that the average American citizen didn't have access to the same genetic enhancements that were cropping up in the rest of world.

But somehow the girl had eventually found her way into Seattle. Most likely this had happened in 2019, when the rumors about people like her had started to crop up again. And now she was entrenched in what was known as Terminal City, unreachable, heavily defended, but still so incredibly vulnerable. The girl was raised in an environment where she had always been surrounded by people and, like the good little soldier she was, that meant she'd have friends.

Picking up some of the other files, Dawn started considering the best way to get close enough to 452. There were a number of people she could use; her 'brother' Zack who she had discovered lived on some farm, unfortunately using a wild card like that would lead to other problems. 452's normal friends didn't create any problems like that though. She couldn't understand why nobody had made use of them yet, as it was obvious to her that 452's biggest weaknesses were friends like the ones called 'Original Cindy' and 'Sketchy'.

Opening the windows of her apartment she allowed the fresh air to breeze over her, while briefly considering the dangers she was about to face in Seattle. Among 452's friends there was someone she knew, she might not have met him but she knew his reputation. Someone who would undoubtedly figure out she was coming and what the most likely purpose of her visit would be.

It must have been about twelve or thirteen years since she the young and naive reporter had hounded her tracks, but he would remember what the consequences of her return to the States would be. The only good thing about that was that he had never found out what she looked like, so there wasn't much of a chance that a sniper would be waiting when her plane landed.

Not that he would do that of course. She snorted while considering that; the rich boy might not be as naive as he once was, but blatant murder was still something he wouldn't order.

Anyway, she could come up with an idea on who to approach while on the plane. Now she first had to make arrangements for the flight, her stay in Seattle, and, of course, her tools of the trade.

X.X.X

The criminal underworld had been shaken up when the phone calls had started. Noir was coming to town. Within hours rumors had spread out over the entire city and the panic had set in. Wherever possible, the bosses went to ground in heavily fortified buildings, leaving the running of their territories to their underlings.

Orders went out and street crime changed its appearance, nobody knew what Noir looked like, but they were all aware she was a woman. As a consequence, women could walk the streets of Seattle without fear of being assaulted for the first time in years. Smalltime crooks, who weren't yet aware of what was going on, were quickly informed that it was in their own best interest not to call any attention on themselves. No boss wanted anyone in their territory to call the wrath of Death upon them, you never knew who she'd end up blaming.

Braver, but less intelligent, people took notice of different things. There was a price on Noir's head. Most police forces had offered money for information about her whereabouts but these people didn't care about those contracts. The law wanted her alive; there were other people who wanted her dead. Aside from the fact that those who wanted her dead paid better, even these bounty hunters weren't stupid enough not to realize that the most likely outcome of turning a professional assassin over alive meant that they wouldn't live to spend the bounty.

….…

But one man just looked at it all, not bothering to hide his contempt for all these panicked reactions. That Noir would come to Seattle was something that anyone could have predicted a long time before, and so he'd taken his own precautions upon arriving in the city. The chances of her not being hired during a situations like this were close to zero. And this very inevitableness was the reason he had moved to Seattle a couple of months ago.

Unlike everyone else though, he had a good idea of what she'd look like. It had been a long time since he last saw her but there was no chance in hell that he'd ever forget about her.

"Jack."

"Yeah boss," his protégé answered him. He'd taken the kid under his wings almost two years ago and he was indeed shaping up to be a decent thief. Nowhere near his own level of course, but then he'd had a lot more experience.

"Who do you think hired her?"

Jack didn't need anymore information, the boy had always been good at understanding what he meant. With a thoughtful expression on his face Jack returned his gaze. "Well boss, I figure it's someone with a shitload of money."

"That doesn't exactly come as a surprise now, does it? She's expensive."

"I know, I know, I was just working myself towards the goal y'know. Anyhow, I don't think it's one of the bosses since they've all gone to ground. That leaves the rich people. I'd say one of them wants to off someone."

"Wouldn't the boss that hired her go to ground as well, in order to allay suspicions?"

"Allay suspicions boss? What kinda talk is that? Anyhow, I figure that they would've prepared for it, an' not let it look as panicky as all this."

"Point," he conceded. "How 'bout the freaks?"

"Nah, they ain't got the money for that kind of thing. And besides, who'd they want dead?" That was indeed a good question, and anyway, he was pretty sure that the freaks would be able to do most of their killing themselves. But Jack had forgotten something.

"How about the government?"

"The government?" Jack frowned, "what'd they wanna hire her for?"

"To kill the freaks?"

"I don't like the government but I kinda doubt even they'd go that far to deal with them. Geez, there are hundreds of 'em. Even someone like Noir couldn't get them all."

"She wouldn't have to. What's it they say? Cut of the head and the rest'll follow?" And everyone knew who the head-freak was. Damn shame actually, a pretty girl like that. He'd even heard she was a good thief as well, trained by Moody himself if his information was reliable.

"Could be, could be." At least the boy was considering it, even if he clearly wasn't convinced. "But wouldn't she like, y'know, be suspicious 'bout workin' for the government?"

"She'll be suspicious, but this is a military project that has gone, as they say, FUBAR, an' she hates that." Everyone knew that bit of information, but with that knowledge also came the realization that he might actually be the only person left alive who knew the reasons for that hatred.

"So you think she'll go and kill what'shername? The pretty one?"

"452, yeah I think so. And after that she'll go after the government types who're behind it."

"The ones who hired her?" Clearly Jack didn't believe that and he had to admit there was something wrong about it. If they knew she'd go for a mission like this, they must've also known what she'd do to those who controlled the project.

"Maybe someone else hired her then, someone who doesn't like the government people either."

"Y'mean someone who'd like to see the freaks dead, an' the government people as well?"

"Could be he just doesn't care about the government."

"You've got an idea 'bout who it is, don't you?" Jack suddenly realized, and he had to admit that the boy had caught on faster than he'd anticipated.

"Yeah, I do. Remember the mess with the hostage thing?"

"At the Jam Pony? Sure."

"Remember the snipers?"

"The ones the cops said wouldn't be there? Yeah, I remember thinkin' it was strange they were there. Clemente always seemed like a good guy to me, didn't think he'd go back on his word."

"He didn't."

"What?"

He licked his lips, suddenly doubting the wisdom of telling the boy about this. It would mean Jack might become a target as well, but on the other hand his protégé deserved to know the truth of what was going on. "The snipers were NSA. They worked for that guy who got wrapped up when they assaulted the place."

"An' you figure that guy hired Noir? It doesn't really make sense to me, y'know. He mightn't like the freaks much, but he can't go 'round his own people."

"Yeah, but there's just something about the guy that doesn't smell right."

"Why would we care anyway? It's not like she's gonna waste us."

No, they weren't even close to the kind of target she usually had, but that wasn't important. Nothing was important, how many times had she spoken that short phrase? Shaking his head at the memories, he let out a short barking laugh. "I've got some business with her. She and I need to have a long overdue conversation."

As he took a sip of his drink he didn't pay any attention to Jack's reaction to that news, after all it wasn't as if the choking and other expressions of surprise were in any way unexpected.

X.X.X

From the criminals led three major lines of communication. The first of these ended up at the other underworld.

The small contingency of vampires and demons that had survived the purges, caused by the revelation that there were non-humans running around, took the news in stride. They were aware of Noir's reputation, but they also knew that she seldom took action against vampires and demons. Her targets had mostly been humans, and as long as they'd stay away from her, they would be safe.

Some of them questioned this decision however, after all what could a mere human do against them? They wouldn't let some little girl dictate their orders and swore they'd deal with her when she arrived. So, here as well, orders had to be given before demons started to disappear into the proverbial woodwork.

And here too, there were those who didn't believe those orders counted for them. Most demons didn't have a lot of money and they needed it. Money was an easy way to get certain things, especially since the city of Seattle had been steadily turning into a no-go zone. The bars that previously catered to the community had been closed down and, more often than not, reopened in a different city. Therefore money had been steadily regaining its ancient attractiveness, and with the government watching closely for non-humans it was getting more expensive to travel for every day that passed.

Like stupidity, bounty hunters weren't limited to the human race.

….…

But sometimes it wasn't the money they were after. A year before, Carlos had been the master of the city. He was the one all demons went to if they wanted something, and he had the muscle to ensure they didn't try another way. By now however, his muscle was gone. Some of his enforcers had been victims of the purges, others had left the city, and some had decided to go out for themselves.

His empire, painstakingly built after the Pulse, was crumbling and he needed something to get back on top. Something that would once again let the demons bow down to something as impure as a vampire. Something that would inspire fear among even his greatest competitors, and now someone who would be capable of generating that fear was coming to Seattle.

"Listen up people, we're going to regain our place at the top of the city. Everybody will remember why they shouldn't mess with us."

"How're we gonna do that boss?"

Good, someone had asked the question. "We are going to bring in a new member."

The sudden shuffling of feet from the brighter part of his minions made it understood they had an inkling of what was to come. Not all of them were able to think that far ahead though. "Who, boss?"

"Noir."

One of the things about vampires he had noticed was that when they went quiet, they really went quiet. As the saying goes, the silence was deafening.

He had never paid a lot of attention to what race a demon was—he thought of himself as an equal opportunity vampire—but when a purple demon broke the silence he spent a moment wishing he knew what it was. "An' how're we gonna do that? She's killed demons before, and it's said she doesn't like us but doesn't think we're important enough to kill."

"She's human, isn't she?"

"Sure, nothing special 'bout her, not like the barcodes."

"Right," Carlos said. He had to convince them this was the right action to take, as he wouldn't be able to do it alone. "She's human. Which means she'll have human weaknesses. She may be a very good fighter, but that doesn't mean she can beat us. We're stronger than she is, we can keep fighting longer, and if we do it right she might not even notice us until it's too late.

"We will find her, corner her, and in the end." He bared his teeth in an approximation of an evil smile. "We'll turn her, making her one of us."

X.X.X

The second communication line that started in the underworld led to those people who didn't think of themselves as criminals, although the law often held a different opinion. These men and women were the elite. Most of them had always had money and while the Pulse had often hit them hard, it hadn't hit them as hard as it did the common people.

Unlike the common people who needed to pay close attention to their money, and feared they might lose it, the elite hadn't needed to worry about it. Their money had been invested, they owned the businesses and houses people worked and lived in. They had off-shore bank accounts and expensive, but easily liquidated, art. After the Pulse hit they might have lost half of what they owned, but as the rest of the country had lost a higher percentage the gap with the common people had actually widened.

Among these people the news was received differently. If there was no other way, assassins had for a long time been the accepted means to deal with one's competitors. That way you kept your own hands clean and as all members of the elite were able to hire an assassin, everyone had an even chance in their dealings. But since there were no real problems between the elite at that time, it was obvious to them that none of their peers had been the one to hire Noir. After all, while assassinations were the gentlemanly way to kill ones opponents, they were still a messy business that nobody of standing would use, unless absolutely necessary.

With their peers eliminated as clients it was obvious to them that they couldn't possibly be the targets. None of the lesser folk would dare to attack them like that. In some houses there was speculation about who the target might be, and when talking to their peers they always took note of who mentioned who as a possible target.

After all, knowledge had never ceased to be power.

….…

For these people, however, the appearance of an assassin was a small diversion while business as usual went on.

"Have you heard about Noir?" Jacob Masters was asked by his colleague and sometimes partner.

"Oh yes, she has been hired for a job here, hasn't she? Who do you think her target is?"

"I figure it has something to do with them." Them. Among the elite this had become the word to describe the inhabitants of Terminal City.

"Yes, you might be right about that. And it would be a wonderful solution to that dreadful situation." The two men were silent for a moment after that, pondering the effects that would have. But it wasn't long before they went on to more important business.

"Say, I hear that Ms. Summers is coming to town."

"You have heard correctly, my friend. She called me this morning to see if we were home. Samantha is looking forward to seeing her again," Jacob answered the man as they continued their walk through his villa.

"Wonderful, I have a business proposition I'd like to put to her," was Victor's smug reply.

"Interesting, is it something to do with your assets in France?"

"Actually yes, I was considering a venture that concerns one of her companies and it might be a good idea to discuss it with her."

Ah, Jacob thought, a business deal. It might be a good idea to pay some attention to Victor though, he was looking for a wife and Dawn was, as always, still single. But there were possibilities there as well. If he'd hook the two of them up it might be profitable for him. Surely they would be grateful, and if it meant her friend would be here more often, Samantha would be ecstatic as well.

"That sounds interesting, why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? She'll land in the afternoon and that way you might get to her first. You would have the entire evening to persuade her."

From Victor's grateful look it was clear he had guessed correctly and he started thinking about what something like that might do for his own enterprises.

Dawn Summers, a name that among the elite was well known. The woman had appeared in Paris several months before the Pulse, and had been loaded with money. Nobody knew where she had gotten it, or how, but she didn't really use it until after the Pulse had hit. With no way for anyone to discover for themselves just where she'd gotten the money, nobody found out. After all, a well-raised person would never even think of posing posing such a rude question.

Sometimes hiding out in the open was indeed the best way not to be noticed.

X.X.X

And then the third line came into play. In some cases the differences between the people on both sides of the law became blurry. There were informers, who snitched on their fellow criminals, and there were the crooked cops who worked for those who paid them the most money.

How the information reached the police wasn't important, the only thing that mattered was that it did. Most officers had no idea of the significance of this information until it was explained to them. Noir had always been the business of special groups within the federal law-enforcement units.

Normal cops didn't have to worry about professional assassins. With few exceptions most cases involving them were handed over to the FBI, who would then do their best to capture the perpetrator. This wasn't because the detectives who'd start out handling the case were incompetent; but as assassins hardly ever restricted their actions to a single state, or even a small number of them, it always simply came down to a matter of jurisdiction.

And this was the case with Noir as well. She had never undertaken any overt action against police officers, therefore lacking the moniker of copkiller. There were warrants out for her arrest, but after the Pulse she hadn't been in the United States very often. And since there was no use in checking outdated warrants, hardly anyone remembered her.

In cases like this it wasn't the law that had the longest memory.

Once the situation was explained to them however, the police took its own precautions. The increased security only increased the earlier created safety on the streets, and it didn't take long before people realized the streets hadn't been this safe since before the Pulse.

The officers too wondered why she was coming to town but, after a call for information to the FBI, they drew the same conclusion everyone else had. It had something to do with the freaks. Decisions needed to be made and after long discussions it was eventually decided they should try to apprehend her before she killed any of the freaks. Not everyone was happy about that decision, but unlike the other groups these orders would be followed. At least if the people on the spot didn't believe they'd get away with something else.

This line didn't stop at the police though, as one of the officers who was eventually informed was detective Matt Sung, informant of Eyes Only. And while his colleagues were busy making bets on how many freaks would get killed, he contacted the person who he knew would be able to help. Logan Cale, his personal link to Eyes Only.

….…

"Noir," Logan said after he'd been told the story. The two of them had decided upon their usual meeting place at the waterfront, and Matt used the opportunity to get some fresh air.

"That's what they say. You've heard of her?"

"Oh yes, she was very big before the pulse. I actually did a couple of articles on her."

"Really? Wonder why I've never heard of her then." That was strange, if she had been so big why hadn't he heard? He had still been a rookie at the time but he'd expected to have heard something about anyone as big as Logan implied.

"It's not that strange actually," the paraplegic answered, almost seeming to read his thoughts. "She's actually one of the biggest mysteries around. She named herself after an anime series, but instead of being ridiculed for it she actually has the skills that go with the name."

"Skills that go with the name?" Matt raised his eyebrow at that strange statement.

"Yeah, the series she named herself after was about a couple of assassins, who supposedly were the best in the world. I've watched it myself several times when I tried to understand her, but it never really helped me."

"Okay, so I take it she's dangerous."

"She's more than dangerous, Matt. I've got a feeling I know what she's here for, but what have you heard?"

He had to think about that for a moment, the obvious answer was, well, obvious, but maybe there was something he had missed before. But no, he had already gone over it all and there was only the obvious answer.

"The panicked way the criminal bosses have gone underground tells me that it's unlikely they hired her, even if they'd been able to afford her. And the, ah, upper classes," he had quickly changed his words as he remembered who he was speaking to. Logan Cale was after all a member of those upper classes, "don't act concerned, so we doubt anyone among them had reason to hire her. Which leaves only one other thing it could be about."

"I was afraid of that."

"You haven't heard anything else either?"

"You're the first person I've heard this from, but maybe Eyes Only has some more information by now. If not, I'll have to do some digging. Do you have any idea about who hired her?"

"None, but you think it's got to do with her actions against military projects?"

Matt watched the man carefully for his reaction to this question; in the past it had helped him to know how Logan reacted to something. He could always adapt his own behavior if he'd actually get to meet this Noir. "That is the most obvious answer, it was how I found out about her in the first place. She was hunting down a group of people that were involved with a lot of black ops project. It's a shame I never found out what project had given her the incentive to do so. It might have helped in this case."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you with anything else. If I find out anything though, I'll let you know," Matt said while turning to leave.

"Yeah, thanks. Oh, Matt." Turning back he waited to hear what the man had to say. "Do you happen to know where she'll be coming from?"

"From what we got from Interpol she's probably based in France, and we've got extra security for those flights."

"She probably won't take a direct flight. But thanks anyway."

"Sure thing, hey, tell Eyes Only he's still doing a good job."

X.X.X

"Max, this could be dangerous."

The young woman didn't seem to believe him though. "Relax Logan, who cares if White hired some kind of assassin. Do you really believe he'll be able to get in here?"

Why couldn't she understand the dangers? "What if she did manage?"

"She? You mean to tell me the assassin's a woman? Well, that changes it then, she's dangerous alright," Max sighed. "Come on Logan, how dangerous can one woman be? Nobody would be able to get through all of us; any normal that'd try to come into Terminal City, with murder on her mind, would be dead within moments." This was really frustrating; he had spent hours talking to informants in an attempt to find out who had made calls to France. And when he had finally discovered that White had been one of them he'd come directly to Terminal City in order to warn Max.

"This isn't some kind of second-rate assassin. We're talking about Noir here, she's the best in the business."

"Did I just hear you mention Noir?" It was Alec who interrupted as he'd obviously caught a snippet of their conversation. Logan wasn't exactly fond of the guy, but if the X-5 was able to convince Max of the danger he would be more than willing to put his personal feelings aside.

"Yes, Noir is coming here and I believe that White hired her."

"So you're telling me that Noir is coming for us?"

"Probably for Max, yes."

Alec seemed lost in thought for a moment before he spoke again. "You know, we were actually told about her at Manticore."

This finally seemed to get Max's attention, apparently if Manticore had thought it worthy to mention it must be important. "What for? She's a normal isn't she?"

"Probably."

"Probably? What do you mean probably? Wouldn't yes or no be a better answer?"

"Whoa Max, easy there. Look all I can tell you is what I've heard, okay? The guy who told us about her said she might have been involved in some kind of other project, but since she killed the only people who might know what it was about we can't be sure."

This was interesting information. He knew there had been a link between her and some of the projects he had been researching back then, but this was the first time he heard that the military didn't know what the connection was. "Do you know what the project was?"

"They never really told us, but I figure it was the one in California that was bombed. I think it was called the Initiative, or something."

* * *

I hope you all like the story so far, and don't forget to send me feedback. 


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_April 2000_

She was fourteen when it happened. It had been over two years after her mother and sister had died, and once again it rained in Sunnydale. Except that this time it wasn't water that fell out of the sky.

There were rumors about a military cover-up, naturally the military denied this as did the government, and Dawn believed them. The government also claimed it had been the only way to deal with a group of terrorists, but she didn't believe that weak cover story.

Most likely the government had found out about the real world and as a consequence had panicked. That panic caused bombs to rain down on the unsuspecting little town, and she felt reasonably sure that most of the demons present in the town would have died during that bombardment. The cost of destroying these demons? The lives of all the people who had the bad grace to live in the piece of real-estate called Sunnydale.

Nobody who had been there had survived. Well, at least nobody human.

Jane, her best friend.

Sarah, her other best friend.

Mister Giles, who had always been so happy about her zeal for information.

Willow, her sister's best friend.

Xander, who now would never get to be her husband.

All of them had died.

As had so many more people she had known. All of them gone in one single instant. There was nothing left that tied her to Sunnydale anymore, not even the town itself. Ironically, she herself might be the only thing left that was directly connected to her former home. There was after all that one thing that would never go away. In the years since she'd moved to Los Angeles she had been training herself, had gone on missions, and had even tried to appease the voices in her head. But it hadn't been enough.

She was Noir and once again she had lost everything. Everybody she cared about died, and while she believed she had made her peace with that knowledge, the sudden proof had still come as a shock.

When she had first heard the news she had been ecstatic, the government had taken over where Buffy had been unable to continue, and they had weapons that were capable of doing what needed to be done. It was only after a couple of seconds that the reality of the situation got through to her. Only a day before had she been talking to Jane over the phone, and her friend hadn't said anything about an evacuation.

Death. He was always her constant companion, and never would she get rid of him. If only he would pay more attention to her targets, instead of hunting down her friends.

Then, about two weeks later, the rumors had started. Rumors that there had been a secret military project in Sunnydale, and that this project had created something that had gotten out. The thing that had gotten loose was supposedly some kind of mix between the monster of Frankenstein and the Terminator.

But who would believe an accusation that sounded as ridiculous as that? Especially since the rumors came from the same sources that claimed aliens were interested in sexual experiments with unsuspecting humans. In Dawn's not so humble opinion, that meant it could only be complete nonsense. But still… doubt crept into her mind.

What if for once the conspiracy-nuts were right? What if there was something more to the bombing than she suspected? There had to be a way for her to find out the truth. After two years of hard work, she now had contacts in most of the criminal underworld, and if they couldn't help her find out, no one could.

….…

"Dave," she started the conversation with her sole remaining real friend, "I need information."

"Personal, or for your boss?" Her boss, yes everybody she had ever spoken to about criminal activities knew that she worked for someone else. Knew she worked for what was slowly becoming the best-known assassin in California. Of course, nobody had ever seen this boss of hers, but who would believe a little girl could handle all those missions?

"Both, neither. It's not for a job, but it is important."

"Sunnydale," Dave sighed. She had told him once that she used to live there, and the boy was more than aware that she still had ties to it. At least, she used to have ties to it before the town was bombed into extinction.

"Yeah. I need to know what went on."

"Your boss is from there too?" And he always kept digging, no matter that one day he might actually get the answers he was looking for. Answers that would mean he had become a liability.

But this was an answer she was willing to give. "I don't know where the boss came from." In a strange and twisted way it was the truth. Nobody, with the possible exception of Altena, had known where Kirika had been born.

"One day I will find out what you're hiding, you know," he told her with a disgruntled expression. He was right about that prediction and she knew it, but Dawn was also aware that she didn't have to worry about that for now. At the moment, their professional relationship was too important for him to mess up.

It was strange how well they worked together. At sixteen years he was physically older than her, but he knew, as well as she did, that his rise in status these last two years had been mainly due to her. Dave had become the person to go to if you wanted a meeting with Dawn, thereby serving as another buffer for her. But the dynamics of the L.A. underworld as they applied to her wasn't important right now. She'd come here for information, and she wanted to get it now.

"Sunnydale," was the only thing she needed to say. From earlier experience she knew he had to be steered away from dangerous subjects, before he stumbled on information that might be dangerous to his health. Not that anyone dared to attack him, not after what she had done to the last person who tried, but he always had the suicidal habit to try to find out what he shouldn't. And one day, that would kill him, friend or not.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, let me see what I can do. I'm pretty sure there're some people that operated to or from Sunnydale that came here, but I don't know how much they'll know." He hesitated for a moment. "But if they do, they won't be cheap."

That wasn't unexpected and she took out a wad of money. One of the reasons she always got the information, was that everyone knew she didn't mind paying. The reason she always got correct information was that everyone also knew what happened if it wasn't. "How much?"

"Five thousand?" That was a lot for some unconfirmed information and she looked at him in suspicion. No doubt he skimmed something off the top when she gave him money, but this was the largest sum he had ever asked for.

"Why?"

"Look, if the rumors are true we're dealing with a black-ops operation here, and she said that she'd need money before saying anything."

"She? You mean you've found someone?"

"Hey, I've gotten to know you. That was anticipating your request." The shit eating grin on his face as he said that, proved that he had deliberately waited with telling her this, and she was seriously considering reprimanding him for it. But no, he just did it to tease her, and while he kept doing things like that, he wasn't doing anything more dangerous.

"Alright, and this she wants five thousand dollars for the information?" As he nodded she continued. "In that case she'll speak to me directly."

A doubting expression appeared on Dave's face. "I'm not sure if she'll go for that."

"Who says she's got a choice? I'm not gonna pay anyone that much just so they can tell you what I want to know."

….…

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to convince my father I should go out after dark? Couldn't you set the meeting for a more accessible time? You know, like maybe five o'clock or something?" Dawn was in a bad mood—actually, bad didn't even start to describe it. Her father, despite the fact that he supposedly took care of her, was one person she didn't really care about anymore. She didn't know why that was the case, but figured it had something to do with the fact that the Kirika part of her had never really had a male authority figure. Or at least none besides some of her teachers.

"Look, I already told you. She specifically said it was to be at night, I don't really know why, but that's what she demanded. And you didn't have to come, remember."

Of course she needed to come, as if she was going to risk losing that amount of money for nothing. But he was right that she shouldn't let him suffer her displeasure for what her father did. "Okay, I'm sorry about bitching at you. But I've got this thing against meetings at night." Especially when the one requesting the meeting is from Sunnydale.

That stopped Dave cold in his tracks. "You're serious? I didn't know you're afraid of the dark."

"Oh please, don't try that on me. You know I'm not, it's just that if it comes to Sunnydale I've learned it's best to do everything in the sunlight."

"Why? Because of the memories or something?"

The memories, once again she could feel the raindrops as they pounded on her body while she looked at the sight of her murdered mother and sister. She remembered the feeling of the stake as she plunged it into the assassin's heart, and the smell of the fire as she burned the blond vampire. Swallowing to wet her suddenly dry throat was a little difficult, but she managed to do it anyway, before softly answering her friend. "Yeah, something like that."

"Okay, I can understand that. It couldn't have been easy on you, and I'm, you know, sorry that I brought it up again."

That's alright, there's no need to feel sorry. And Dawn knew that her main problem wasn't that it was so hard to deal with the deaths, but that it wasn't. Even now, over two years after it happened she knew that her family—what remained of it—was always careful of what they said when she was around. None of them thought she would be able to deal with it, none of them understood what had happened that night, and they couldn't believe that she did.

After the funeral most of them had believed there was something wrong with her, what kind of child would kneel between the graves of her family and drop something in them? They weren't the most religious of families, but they still thought it was rather strange to drop some tubes into a grave. And that was without knowing what those tubes contained.

Her father had ordered her to go to a psychiatrist. No doubt the man was good at his job, but there had been only three people who might have had a chance of understanding her. Two of those she had killed herself, and the other was someone she had been ripped away from. Mireille. Mireille would have understood her actions. Had the blonde existed in this world she would have stood by her during those terrible days of loneliness. So to get rid of those weekly meetings she had simply spun a tale for the man until he was satisfied and deemed her cured.

As if.

The loneliness had been hard, but in a strange and twisted way it was probably the best thing that could have happened to her. Without any friends near, and a family that didn't really want to talk to her, she had been forced to examine herself. And during that examination she had discovered what she really was. What she was best at, and what she decided was the thing to do with the rest of her life.

It was during those weeks that everything fell in place, and she was reborn into a new person. No longer were there the multiple personalities that had made up her life after that fateful Halloween. The merging had been accelerated by the shock she experienced at the sight of her murdered family, but it was afterwards that she learned to deal with it.

Most of the traits that made up the new her came from the Kirika personalities, the kinder and more empathic person she had once been was no longer needed. The last personality had been integrated as well, but she didn't really know much about it. It seemed to focus mostly on violence, but as this was a world where only the power you had and used counted, it would be useful. Sometimes Dawn, a name that despite everything she still considered her own, wondered how she would have turned out if that night hadn't happened.

Would she have been a nicer person? Would she have had the same disregard for human life? Would killing children have been less easy on her? Whatever happened to her in that other life, she hoped that the Dawn there wasn't like her. Maybe in some parallel universe there was a version of her still capable of having a good time with her friends, someone who could express happiness with more than a slight curling of her lips.

Shaking off the morbid thoughts she refocused on her friend, who was staring at her in something approaching pity. That was unacceptable, especially since it was so obviously pity for the wrong reason. "Let's go, we've got a meeting to get to.

….…

When she entered the bar, the odor of stale beer and cigarette smoke greeted her, but she ignored it and followed Dave to his contact. As always when she entered a place like this she could feel the calculating gazes of the people who didn't know her. And, like every other time, it was obvious what they were thinking.

What's a little girl like that doing here? Why did the bouncer allow her to come in? Would she make a good tool in my business? How much would someone pay for her? And what would earn me more money then? Ransoming her, or selling her to slavers? Of course, there were also the ones with the even more distasteful thoughts who wondered what she'd look like without her clothes on, and if they'd get the opportunity to find out.

Luckily for most of these newcomers, they were close to people who had been there before, people who knew her and who had never found out what exactly had happened to those who had tried to find the answer to those questions. The only thing about them they were reasonably sure about was that they were no longer alive.

But the how and where remained a mystery, and to these people uncertain death was a lot more scary than the normal certain death. At least in that last case you could often be certain how long you would suffer, and that your family and friends knew who to take revenge on.

So, ignoring the frantic whispering, she continued on until they reached the young woman who was meant to tell her what had happened in Sunnydale. A woman that seemed strangely familiar, but who she couldn't place until she opened her mouth.

"Finally, do you know how bad it is for my reputation to be in a place like this? Look at these people, I'd be surprised if they could even spell fashion."

Oh no, her only source for information about the events in Sunnydale was one of the Cordettes. Looking at the blonde, Dawn tried to remember this one's name. She had never paid any attention to the sheep that used to follow Cordelia around. In fact she had only met them a couple of times, usually in the mall, and that was before she got to know Cordelia better.

It was some kind of name that didn't fit the girl at all, she remembered, but unfortunately that didn't tell her much. Intelligence would have been a name that didn't suit her, but she was pretty sure it was something else. Tranquility? Charity? She continued thinking about it, while Dave was apologizing for the fact that they were late, but still couldn't remember the woman's name.

"Who are you?"

"What do you mean, who am I? Don't you think you should introduce yourself to me first? I never said another person could come, did I?"

"I know you're one of the Cordettes, but what is your name?"

That seemed to stump the blonde, and she seemed to measure Dawn with an ease that spoke of experience. "I'm Harmony, but how did you know about that?"

"I knew Cordy. And you went to school with my sister."

"Your sister? Let's see…" This time the examination seemed to last longer, and while she wasn't impressed by it, Dawn did notice that Dave was having trouble sitting still. "You look a little like the freak, was she your sister?"

"Depends on who you're thinking about, doesn't it?"

"Oh, ha, ha. The head-freak of course, Buffy Summers. Sheesh, don't you even know that?"

Comments about her sister's weird behavior were things she had long before gotten used to, and this one wasn't among the worst she had heard. Nor was it from someone who she cared about, so ignoring the barb was the easiest thing in the world. "Then yes, Buffy was my sister."

"Great, the freak's sister." Realization seemed to slowly dawn on the brainless woman's face. "Wait a minute, you were just as great a freak as your sister, weren't you? I heard you were expelled for beating someone up. And there were the rumors about what happened to your sister's killer."

Answering that was totally unnecessary, so Dawn didn't even make the attempt, but simply looked at the other with what she knew was her most emotionless stare. A look that the average snake would have trouble holding, and it wasn't long before the blonde had to look away. "Now, I would've preferred to get information from someone that doesn't need Cordelia's guidance to rub her only two brain cells together, but it seems I'll have to deal with you. I've got the money here, and you'll get it once I'm satisfied with your story."

"You've got the money? Where did you get money like that? I always thought you people were poor." Where poor naturally implied that they were unable to afford Gucci shoes. On the other hand, knowing that it was Harmony she was dealing with, did explain the large sum. The woman probably didn't understand anything about money, and had most likely named a figure she knew that she could live about a week on.

"I'm here to ensure my boss gets the answers. Now spill." Patience was a virtue, one of the few she could actually claim, but even Dawn could run out of it.

"Alright already, I'm talking. It's like this. Some kind of military group came to Sunnydale to do experiments on what they called sub-tees. But their headwoman, who besides lacking anything resembling a decent fashion sense, tried to create some kind of robot thingie." As the other continued talking about what had happened Dawn silently absorbed all the information, and only occasionally asked questions for clarification.

She might not have known any of the Cordettes, or even Cordelia, well, but she did know their reputation. And nobody with that kind of reputation would suddenly be able to find out everything that she was now being told. Which left only two options; either the girl was lying, which was unlikely since the blonde could never come up with a story like this, or there was another reason she knew about all this.

"But I'd left town the night before they came to destroy Sunnydale, so I'm safe. And that's everything I can tell you. Now I'd like you to give me my money, so I can go."

"Of course, you'll get what you deserve. I'm going to get a drink first though, I might come up with a question I'd like to ask you. Do either of you want anything?" After receiving the expected responses she got up and walked over to the bartender who she called over, after she had confirmed her suspicions in the large mirror.

"Hello Dawn, it's been a while. What do you want? A nice glass of wine?"

"Hi Fred, one wine, a coke and I'd like to have the night special as well." If she hadn't been expecting it, Dawn believed she might have actually missed the moment where Fred froze. She doubted she would have missed the way he sneaked a look at the mirror, but even that was so expertly done that most people wouldn't have noticed.

"Sure," Fred told her in a voice that was almost completely normal. "One wine, one coke, and an evening special coming up."

It wasn't long before she walked back to the table, holding the tablet containing two glasses and something covered by a piece of red cloth.

"Here's your coke Dave."

"Thanks Dawn."

The other being on the table however had become impatient, and demanded to know if she had come up with any other questions.

"No, not really."

"Good, then give me my money."

Not saying anything Dawn took the bundle of money she had prepared for this and laid it on the table, but before Harmony could take it she also placed her sister's necklace on it.

"Hey! What did you do that for?" The suddenly scared blonde asked as she moved away from the exposed cross.

"A final test actually. I didn't want to rely on the mirror," she answered the vampire before taking hold of the night special and removing the cloth. The small crossbow was in perfect working order, and Harmony didn't stand a chance when the trigger was pulled.

The dust hadn't yet settled on the ground, when Dawn took a sip from her wine. "Excellent vintage, I'll have to compliment Fred on it."

"Wha- what was that?" Dave stuttered. Looking at him Dawn noticed how he was staring at the space that used to be occupied by the vampire.

"That was Sunnydale's primary export product. A vampire, I don't usually hunt them, but I can't stand it when they make comments about my sister. Besides, it saved me five thousand dollar." And Harmony had known who she was, the rumors that she had heard were probably about the death of Spike and whatshername. Had it become known among the vampires and demons in LA who she was, life might have become a little uncomfortable around here.

"B-bu-but vampire?" The poor boy didn't seem to get it through his head that the creatures actually existed. Of course, this hadn't exactly been the gentlest way to break the news to him.

"Don't worry about it. Why don't you go home, have a nice sleep and we'll talk about it tomorrow, alright? We'll do it during daytime even, and I'll tell you all their weaknesses." Getting him out of there was going to be important, she had no intention to see him panic and call attention to them.

….…

With her friend safely on his way home, the night special returned to Fred, and her drink finished, Dawn figured she might as well go home too. Stepping outside she took a deep breath of the fresh night air—well, considering this was LA, not quite fresh but at least it was an improvement over the stuff that claimed the title during rush-hour.

While walking home she kept thinking about the information she had received from the vampire. The Initiative, obviously she had been right about the government knowing about the supernatural. Unfortunately though, she had been wrong about the reason for the bombing of Sunnydale. This ADAM that the vampire had spoken off was the reason her friends had died. No, that wasn't entirely true.

The construct had probably done the only thing it was capable of, follow orders, which meant of course that the blame should be placed elsewhere. She needed to look for information on this Initiative, but the chances that she'd get caught were far too high if she did it while still living with her father.

Pulling her gun out of her jacket she kept on debating what to do. She could probably investigate some of the things in Sunnydale, without alerting anyone overseeing the secrecy of the project. The fact that she had friends there was a perfect excuse, and that way she might be able to dig up a couple of names. The military always left tracks, no matter how well they believed to have gotten rid of them. Of course, most people wouldn't be able to find those tracks, but most people weren't the current incarnation of Noir. Especially an incarnation that was focused on revenge.

The next time she moved her hand it was to take the silencer out of her other pocket, and screw it onto the threaded barrel of her Glock. But once she had located some of the project's former soldiers, she could go and get more information from them. That information would undoubtedly lead her to someone higher up the chain of command, and she'd repeat the process there, until finally she'd end up at the big boss.

Suddenly turning around she fired her gun at the man that had been following her since she left the bar. She had hoped that wouldn't happen after she had taken out the vampire, but some people simply couldn't take a hint. Turning back she continued her interrupted thoughts; it might take a while before she could do execute her plans though.

Only the preliminary research could be done while she still lived at home, the rest had to wait until after graduation. But once she was able to do so, those bastards would learn exactly how stupid it had been to kill her friends and future husband. With that single bombardment, the US military had declared war on Noir, and she had no intention of losing this conflict.

* * *

And another chapter. Like always, I hope you enjoyed it. Also like always, feedback has still not been classified as a capital offence… 


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_June 11, 2021_

Seattle, home of rain and the genetically empowered. Stepping out of the plane, Dawn could barely keep a smirk from appearing on her face. It was strange how suddenly the whole world seemed to be influenced by a bare handful of failed military experiments. Even she had come here because of them, okay it was in reaction to a phone call made by the man who was supposed to hunt them, but what's the diff?

Looking around the ramshackle airport she tried to remember when she'd last been there, 2008? Yes, she nodded to herself, it must have been something like that. After leaving the country she hadn't felt the need to return to the States, and therefore hadn't done so. Well, except on business occasions naturally. Business, both the kind she was born for and the kind she had adopted as a cover. There were times when she still cursed the moment that she had decided to turn herself into a rich entrepreneur.

But something had needed to be done, there had been so much money that she just hadn't known how to deal with it. When she had first set the cover up, Dawn still had her doubts about getting away with it. But then the Pulse had struck and freed her from any inhibition. At that time everyone had already known that her money had come from the United States, and with the destruction of most electronic records, nobody could verify how she had gotten the money. Of course, by then she'd also needed the money for other reasons as well.

But enough rambling thoughts about the past, it was time to find the chauffeur that was undoubtedly waiting for her. And to think that she'd once actually wondered how the rich could stay rich, hah! It was easy to keep your money if you didn't have to pay for anything when staying in another city.

Getting out of the jet she took a look at the sky, the information she'd received from the pilot was nice and all, but there was simply nothing comparable to having a look for yourself. The gray sky told her that the weather in Seattle hadn't changed since her last visit, and she couldn't help but feel that it was suitable.

Turning away from the sight of the dull gray heaven over the skyline, Dawn focused on the chauffeur and customs officer who'd been the first things she'd noticed when getting out. And that was exactly what she liked about being rich. While inside the airport there would undoubtedly be a large number of people trying to find her, she could easily pass them by.

Aside from the single man who would confirm her identity, there was nobody here who would be trying to see if she was the famous assassin. Plastering a sincere looking smile on her face, Dawn approached the men.

"Miss Summers," the chauffeur greeted with a slight nod that she returned while first attending to official business.

"Welcome to Seattle, ma'am. Would you mind showing me your passport?"

For a moment she debated saying she did mind, but the last time she'd tried that in the United States it had been proven to her that the customs officers here didn't have a sense of humor. It had taken her nearly an hour to get out, and that was only because she'd known the chief of police.

So, this time she simply handed the requested item over and waited patiently while the man gave it a cursory glance. What was the use of not having a sense of humor, and then barely verifying she was telling the truth? Sure, she had passport telling them she was an American citizen, but that didn't mean she couldn't pose a danger.

Oh well, she could deal with complicated assassination missions, the existence of demons, and even the ridiculous number of powerful organizations working from the shadows, but bureaucracy? That would always remain a mystery.

"You don't have anything to report?"

"No." A curt answer like that should be enough to inform the man that he shouldn't try to prove the truth of her statement. Not that it wasn't the truth, as aside from a gift or two she hadn't brought anything, but this jet was needed elsewhere and after a quick refill it should be off again. She'd return to Paris in her private jet, once it arrived here.

"Thank you, ma'am. And once again, welcome to Seattle."

Dismissing the man from her thoughts as he turned to walk back to the terminal, Dawn focused on the chauffeur. "I've brought three suitcases, they're in the back of the plane."

"Yes ma'am. I'll get them for you."

And while the man walked up the short stairs into the plane, Dawn happily allowed herself to drop into the limousine. Once she arrived at the mansion she really needed to stretch her muscles a little, even flying in a private jet got on her nerves after a couple of hours.

X.X.X

"Listen up people." As the crowd of transgenics turned to her, Max felt the same pang of doubt she had ever since the role of leader had been thrust upon her. She had never wanted to be a leader, most importantly because she didn't believe herself to be a good one. But for some reason she seemed to be the only one to have those doubts, or if anyone else had them they didn't mention it. So, all these people who were now looking at her, followed where she led, even when that meant that she'd once again lead them into a danger of unknown proportions. "As some of you might've heard already, there's an assassin coming to Seattle."

"And?" one of them asked her, in a reaction reminiscent of her own during the evening before. "Do we really care what the norms do to each other?"

Like she had to be convinced, and later her inner circle, it was now time for the other transgenics to find out why this particular assassin was a danger. "I know, I had the same reaction. But we've got reason to believe that this assassin has been hired by White. Which means that we're the most likely target."

The growling that came from Joshua made his opinion clear on this matter, anything to do with White was a bad thing. At least his reaction wasn't as bad as when he had first heard that the man who murdered Annie had now hired someone to do the same to his little fella.

For a moment she wondered what the world would've been like if she hadn't stopped the oldest transgenic from tearing off White's head. But no, had he done that they would've been hunted by the entire world, not just a single assassin.

There were others who had more of a reaction though. "Why would he hire norms? Doesn't he realize that if his kind fails in killing us, a norm wouldn't stand a chance at all. Unless he's hired an army."

"Nah, it's someone called Noir." The silence that followed that statement was deafening in its intensity. In that single moment she could clearly see who had heard about this Noir, and who had no idea of the danger this assassin represented. The faces of those who were capable of the action turned white, or in some cases whiter, but unlike Mole when he'd heard the news, nobody bit their cigar in two.

"Noir," she was asked in what almost seemed to be denial. "You're telling me that the bastard hired the Grim Reaper?"

"Grim Reaper?" She looked at Alec for an explanation, but wasn't happy when she got it.

"That's one of the names people've given her. It's said that she governs death, so the Grim Reaper."

"Great, any other names I should know about?"

"The thousand-year darkness of Europe," came from Mole.

"The maiden with the black hands," was the input from an X-6.

"She who governs death."

"The bringer of death."

"The angel of the abyss." And even more names, each more terrible—and in her opinion ridiculous—than the previous one, were shouted until she had enough of it.

"Alright already, I get the point. No need to go on. Anyway, I take it you all understand the danger?"

"Hell yeah. But is she going to come after all of us, or just one specific target."

At this point it was Mole who stepped forward and faced the others, they had discussed the same question the night before and he would tell everyone their plans. She wasn't happy with the plans, but despite the fact that they said she was their leader, for some reason she could still be outvoted when it came to things like this. "We all know that the bastard is after Max here. So we figure she's the main target. We've discussed all this last night and after reaching an almost unanimous decision this is what we came up with."

For a moment he scanned the crowd, in an obvious attempt to see if anyone would object to the fact that the decision had already been made. Not that Max expected anyone to actually do so, they were military after all, and while the lizard-faced man might not be the prettiest face around, he did have a lot of experience on the battlefield.

Once satisfied that nobody had any objections he took the stinking cigar out of his mouth and spoke again. "Good, now the plan is that we'll increase security. From what we've learned, the norms will do the same on their side so it should be impossible for anyone to actually get inside without someone finding out.

"To decrease the risks even further though, Max'll keep a low profile and won't go outside for a while. A new duty roster will be put up as soon as possible. Other security measures may be implemented when deemed necessary, but for now this will be it. We've all heard about the nearly miraculous way Noir can do things, but she's never gone up against us before."

Despite his courageous words however, she could detect faint signs of nervousness in him. And that was what worried her most of all, if Mole was this worried about Noir, what were the others like?

X.X.X

"Victor, my man. Wonderful to see you," Jacob told his friend as the man was led inside the room by his butler.

"Jacob," the greeting was returned. He watched in amusement as the other tried to find an easy way to bring the subject to what they both knew was the reason he had come here. But where was the fun in allowing that to happen so soon?

"Have you found out anything yet about who might have hired the assassin?" That was after all the first favor he had asked in exchange for the dinner invitation. Not waiting for the answer, he continued with another question. "Would you care for a drink?"

"Yes please, a glass of bourbon would be wonderful." While Jacob motioned to the butler to fill them both a glass, he listened to the other's explanation about how he had tried to find out. "I've asked around with some people I know, but from what they told me it's unlikely someone in the underworld."

"It isn't? I would've thought them to be the kind of people who would hire an assassin whenever they could." This was a puzzling situation, and while taking a sip of his exquisite drink he pondered about it. If it wasn't the criminals, who could it possibly be?

"They would but, according to the people I have spoken to, none of them have the means to hire her."

"You mean they can't afford her? That's ridiculous, we both know there are some wealthy people among them. Just take the one who was murdered by his bodyguard almost two years ago for example. He might not have been in our class, financially I mean, socially he could never compare, but he could easily have afforded hiring Noir."

Holding up his glass and peering at it, Victor swirled the bourbon around in it before finally coming with an answer. "They might usually be able to afford it, but at the moment there isn't anyone around who would have immediate access to that kind of money. And we both know that Noir would demand payment in cash."

Yes, it was one of the things that had prevented anyone from actually finding out who the mysterious assassin was. Payment in cash, and no matter how the bills were marked they'd show up somewhere on the other side of the world, without anyone having a clue where they had come from. If he didn't know better he'd almost suspect it was someone with powerful connections in his world. But considering Noir didn't care about killing his kind of people that was unlikely, unless she really was crazy enough for that not to matter.

"Well, if it's not the criminal elements, what would that leave?"

Victor's sigh told him the answer even before he vocalized it. "I don't know. Everybody I spoke to is certain that the target is one of them, most likely the leader, but they don't know who hired her. Out of desperation, I've even contacted some friends to see if they knew anything, but it's unlikely one of us hired her for that job."

Of course it wasn't one of the elite, the idea alone was preposterous. But who could it be then? The world consisted of four groups, only three of which had any kind of meaning. There was the elite, who ruled it. The government, that saw to it that everybody who wasn't important did as they were told. And the criminal element, which couldn't be entirely eliminated and should therefore be made useful. The fourth group was everyone that didn't belong to one of the other three, and therefore didn't count. Oh, they were used as a source of labor for both the criminals and government, and, he had to admit, sometimes even joined the elite, but generally they were unimportant.

Unfortunately, with two of the three eliminated that would leave only the government as the potential client. And, no matter what he sometimes thought of those incompetent fools, he doubted even they wouldn't understand what the effect of an action like that would be. Heads would roll, that much was certain, the only question in an affair like that would be if it was literally of figuratively. No, he seriously doubted it was the government.

"No single group of criminals would be able to afford it you said, do you think it might be a collective hiring? If I recall correctly, they did sometimes interfere in the business of the criminals. In fact, that leader of theirs is rumored to be linked to that annoying Eyes Only."

"It might be possible, but I doubt it. Usually, when they actually did interfere, it led to the complete destruction of the operations in question. But despite that, the interference was always small-scale, nothing that really worried any of the more influential bosses." Probably reacting to the pointed look he gave him, Victor took back a little of the impact his words had. "Oh, I'm not saying they didn't feel some of it. In fact, I know for certain that several of the operations that got disrupted were highly profitable, but on a larger scale they didn't have much of an impact."

"Undoubtedly you are telling me the truth," Jacob sighed, while getting out of his leather chair. "But that does leave us with something of a conundrum, an interesting one, but I fear one that might eventually prove to be dangerous as well."

"Talking about an interesting mystery…" His guest trailed of with a hopeful look in his face, and Jacob decided he had teased the man long enough.

"Of course, she arrived a couple of hours ago." Pointing his head in the direction he knew Dawn probably still was, he continued. "After her arrival she decided to stretch her legs a little. I believe that at the moment, she and Samantha are enjoying themselves in the gym. Why don't we go and see if they're done?"

Victor indicated his approval of that plan and, getting up from their chairs, the two men continued their conversation while walking to the gym. "A light workout? Yes, I can understand the need for it after a long flight, although I've always been more partial to a nice massage myself."

"Well, if you're feeling lucky you might offer her one." The shocked look on Victor's face told him that the other man hadn't figured out he'd seen through him. That was a little unexpected, but it did make him feel a bit of pride in himself. "On the other hand, I don't think you can actually call what she does a light workout."

"Really? I thought she'd just be using the fitness equipment, run a little on the treadmill, do some muscle training. The usual."

"Oh, she did that when she first arrived, then she did some gymnastics."

"Gymnastics? What, as in somersaults?"

"Oh yes, and using the bridge and rings and all that stuff. She says it keeps her limber." If the dirty look was any indication, Victor obviously noticed the way he stressed the word limber. Quietly chuckling to himself he opened the heavy, wooden, double door they had arrived at and revealed the sight of the two women fencing. "Now she's doing something else though."

"Wow, I've heard stories of course. But to actually see her. How good are they?"

"As you're aware Samantha is at a near professional level, and while Dawn is able to put up a decent amount of resistance, the difference between them is pretty big. From what I've heard though, Dawn doesn't train nearly as much as Samantha does, apparently she prefers to use swords with a bigger blade, like Katanas or some of those European types."

A look of surprise flashed across Victor's face, and he mentally counted another scored point. "You mean she actually trains with edged swords?"

"Well, not sharp ones no. The swords are either dull, or made of wood. I figure the wood ones aren't sharp either, but I'm sure you catch my drift. I hope this doesn't change your plans about her?"

However, the focused way the man stared at the figure dressed in a skintight white suit, left little doubt about his plans for the woman. "Oh no, not at all. I like a woman who isn't afraid to take some risks."

"Perfect, let me introduce you then."

X.X.X

"So boss," Jack started his question. "Are you finally gonna tell me what the plan's supposed to be?"

"Patience, my young Padawan."

"Your young what?"

He uttered a sigh, sometimes the current state of the world truly was despairing. "Haven't you ever heard of Star Wars?"

"Isn't that some kind of weapon?"

This was unbelievable, and to think he only discovered this lack of education now. "You're eighteen years old and you've got no idea what Star Wars is? I don't care what the Pulse did to all the rich people, and those annoying computer systems, but to think it destroyed an entire culture."

"Ah boss? That still doesn't tell me what it is."

"It's two trilogies of movies, well apparently there are also some books and stuff but I've never been into the reading thing myself."

"And this Podawan?"

"Padawan, it was the title of those learning to become Jedi. You know, I can't believe that I actually have to explain this to you."

"Sorry boss, but y'know I ain't ever heard of it." Yeah, yeah alright. Cue the expected change of subject in five, four… "But you still haven't answered my question boss."

Okay, well while he hadn't been able to predict the timing of the cue, the change of subject was still present. Taking comfort that he hadn't completely lost his touch in predicting human behavior, he decided to answer the question without any more outdated references. Star Wars gone the path of Terminator and The Blair Witch Project. Shaking his head he uttered a soft sigh of despair. It probably wouldn't be long, before he'd walk against proof that these barbarians didn't even remember Close Encounters.

"What we're gonna do is find Noir."

"Yeah, you've said that before. Now I hope you realize I would never stand between a madman and his goal, but are you sure that's the smart thing to do? Wouldn't it be better if we, y'know, got the hell out of this city?" The last part was shouted, and it was obvious that his protégé was scared. "What the hell are ya thinkin' of? You don't go an' hunt the number one assassin in the world, y'know. You do your best not to get noticed by her, even I know that."

"I've already told you, I need to talk to her."

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. You've met her before, an' now you want to get reacquainted." Even the mocking tone that Jack used for the unfamiliar word wasn't enough to drive the sudden memories away.

The knife, pressed against his throat, that beautiful face so close to his own that he could feel her breath. And in that face, the most emotionless pair of eyes he had ever seen. Even now, all those years later, he still sometimes woke up bathed in sweat, remembering the most terrible moment of his life.

"Don't."

"Don't what? Tell the freakin' truth? We both know exactly who it is we'll be facin', an' I for one don't feel like doing that."

Moving his hand to his necklace, he stroked the familiar piece of metal hanging on it in an effort to calm down. "We'll be doing it anyway. No, I'm going to do this differently."

"You've decided not to go?"

"No, I'm going to give you a choice."

"What kind of choice?" the young man warily asked him.

Licking his parched lips, he still lingered a moment before posing the ultimatum. "I won't force you to come with me."

"Great. That's all I needed to hear."

"Wait, don't celebrate yet. I can't train anyone who doubts my decisions, so either you come with me, or we'll part here and now."

"What? Y'mean that if'n I don't come, you won't train me anymore?"

"Exactly, so what'll it be?"

X.X.X

The dinner was wonderful, and Jacob made a mental note to compliment his wife later, he knew she didn't like it when he did so in public. The red wine was a good vintage from Dawn's own vineyard, and tasted as good as he remembered it to. In short, he decided, life was good. Looking over at his two guests he couldn't help but notice that they were both sizing the other up, and even if they might not be certain of what was going to happen that night, he was. He did have a feeling that Dawn had gone to greater length than usual to look good, in fact this was the first time he'd seen her in a dress. Well, if you discount those boring parties, that is.

"They do look pretty cute together, don't they?" Samantha whispered in an aside. "Too bad it's not going to work."

"Not going to work? Why wouldn't it work?"

After making sure the other two weren't paying attention to them, she leaned closer. "Dawn isn't into relationships. Personally I think it's one of the few things that actually scare her. But on the other hand, she does have a good reason to be scared of it."

"What do you mean?"

"From what I've heard, she has only once been in love with someone and that ended badly. In fact, he died like everybody else she's ever cared about did." That was something he hadn't known, would his interfering be a danger to his continued friendship with the woman? However, his wife seemed to read his reaction and calmed him. "Don't worry, despite not wanting any relationships she doesn't like to sleep alone."

"What?" he asked a little confused by that statement.

A grin appeared on the beautiful face of the woman he loved as she spoke. "Well, perhaps sleep was the wrong word. Let me rephrase it a little, she doesn't believe that beds should contain less than two people."

"Oh," realization dawned as he understood that while his friend might not find the wife he was looking for, he would most likely have an interesting night.

"Yes, but do you know what I'm actually interested in?"

"No my dear, what are you interested in?" was the expected reply he gave her.

"How Victor will react when he discovers the knives she carries on her forearms." The resulting laughter was enough to draw the attention of the others and they joined the conversation.

"Pray tell, what's so funny?" Victor wanted to know.

"Nothing my friend, you'll probably find out sooner or later." Out of the corner of his eye, Jacob could see how Samantha took hold of one of her forearms, which resulted in Dawn's desperate attempt to keep her face in check.

While he didn't have any idea what the woman's fascination was with bladed weapons, he was more than aware that she always carried a couple of them. In fact, he knew she even had several that lacked any metal, so that she'd be able to carry them even while on a commercial airplane. Oh well, like he'd already told Victor. Everybody needed a hobby.

"So Dawn, why are you here anyway? Normally I would say you came in response to all the invitations we've sent you over the years, but you only called yesterday. And to top it off, you didn't even use your own jet."

"Business, always business Jacob. You know how it is." Always busy, traveling all over the world to keep an eye on everything you own. Oh yes, he knew that alright, and it still surprised him how people could think the elite had it easy.

"That I do. Anything specific you want to divulge about the business you have to do here, or is it a secret?"

The peal of laughter that came out of her mouth was as clear as crystal, but his question had the desired effect as she actually answered it. "No, it's not really a secret. In fact I've come here to do some scouting, and perhaps even an acquisition or two."

"Really, how interesting. I actually thought that everybody was going to stay away from Seattle for the time being."

"They are, which is why the prices are at an all-time low, and I can take what I want."

Well, he had to admit that was good business thinking, and he could also see the appreciation on Victor's face as he asked the next question. "Aren't you worried about their influence then?"

"Their influence?" she furrowed her brow, probably trying to figure out what exactly the man had meant by that. "Oh, you mean the transgenics. No, I'm sure they only want to be left alone. Who knows, maybe I'll try to approach them with a business offer or two. From what I've heard, some of their abilities might be very useful."

No matter what happened in the world, there was always something left to amaze him. Now someone actually intended to use them as workers, or a similar purpose. "Are you serious? They are still considered fugitives here, and I doubt the military would allow you to take any of them."

"Oh, you Americans have always been backwards when it came to regulations about genetic engineering. That is probably what forced them to put everything they had on it, in one single project. But back in Europe it's been legal for years now, and while they might be treated a little different, there wouldn't be any law looking for their death. And the military, please," she said in a mocking tone. "You know as well as I do how easily they can be persuaded to look the other way."

You Americans? Wasn't she one herself? He always thought she came from California too, but maybe he was mistaken. "Perhaps you're right about the regulations in Europe, but I have a hard time imagining anyone who would want to work with them."

Dawn merely shrugged at that. "That's a problem for the future. Until I've found a way to contact them I won't be able to do anything. You wouldn't happen to have an idea on where to start, would you? I'll probably have to contact that leader of theirs, the brunette?"

"I don't think I can help you there, I stay as far away from that mess as possible. I do wish you luck on your endeavor however, no matter how foolish I believe it to be."

"Thanks," that innocent smile of hers appeared again. "I think I'll try my luck around the city tomorrow, I'm sure there must be a way to reach them."

"As long as you don't make it too late tomorrow." Samantha warned her.

Oh yes, he'd almost forgotten about that. He had to indulge her again, and with her friend coming he hadn't even stood a chance. "Why is that?" Dawn asked.

"Because of the party, of course." A slight grimace crossed the woman's face, and apparently Samantha had noticed it as well, as she immediately spoke in a hurt tone of voice. "You're not going to disappoint me in that are you? You knew it was coming."

Oh god, she even used the irresistible eyes. Nobody that actually had a heart could resist that, and indeed, Dawn wasn't able to put up any more resistance. "I wouldn't think of not showing up, I just hadn't expected you to have pulled it of for tomorrow already. Did you send that invitation I asked you about?"

This time it was Samantha who grimaced. "I did, even though I don't have any idea why you'd want him there, I sent the invitation. But he won't show up, he never came when he was still one of us, and now…" She trailed off, and Jacob suddenly had an idea about who it was that had been invited.

"Don't worry, he'll show up. There's something he wants to know, and this way I won't have to look him up in order to ask my questions," Dawn said, before lifting her glass. "Anyway, here's to our beautiful hostess, and the wonderful parties she can always put together."

X.X.X

Nursing his beer, Logan was considering the invitation he had received that morning. He didn't like those parties, and as most people were aware of that he'd rarely received an invitation. Of course, Samantha Masters would never even consider the possibility that someone wouldn't want to come to one of her parties. And that while it was well-known her husband hated them with a passion.

But still, it was strange that after all the time since he'd rejected his family he actually received an invitation. And that at a time he might actually go to the party; it wasn't a prospect he was looking forward to, but he might gain some information there. He hoped that wouldn't be necessary though, maybe Asha had actually found something useful, but he didn't hold out much hope for that.

The subject of his thoughts entered _Crash_ at that moment, and made her way towards him.

"Hey."

"Hi," was the response as she took the seat across from him.

"So, have you found out anything?"

"Straight to business," Asha sighed. He ignored it; there was more at stake here than her hurt feelings. "But I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. I haven't discovered anything conclusive."

"Damn, I hoped you might have discovered something. But you haven't found anything that points to White?"

"If you hadn't told me about the phone call, I doubt we'd have even discovered he had anything to do with it. Whatever White's working on right now, he doesn't let anything leak. In fact, we kept his headquarter under close surveillance today, but didn't even catch a peek of him."

That was strange, and rather disconcerting. White was the tool of the people after Max, and if he couldn't be seen where he was supposed to be that could only mean trouble. "What could he possibly be up to?"

"I have no idea. Who knows, maybe he's taken a break and gone on a holiday."

"Not while any of the transgenics are still around, it's too important for him. No, he must be working on another plan to kill them. Maybe even together with this Noir." But what plan?

"You can't be certain of that, he might not have anything to do with Noir being hired."

"Well, there aren't many people with the means to hire her. White is one of them, and he has a motive. Unless you've forgotten to mention something…" He trailed of, in the vain hope that she might have discovered a criminal who might have hired Noir.

"No, nobody in the underworld knows who hired her. All they know is that she ordered weapons."

"Ordered weapons?"

Asha shrugged before she answered. "Apparently it's what she does. She doesn't travel with weapons, and every time she goes somewhere she doesn't have a storage, she buys them."

"Do you know where she bought them? We might be able to let the police deal with her if we know."

A shake of his informant's head explained the situation even before her words did so. "No, nobody tells the same story. So either she's ordered them at like half a dozen places, or she's somehow managed to hide it."

"Damn it." While playing a little with the invitation, he continued thinking about the situation as he knew it. Noir was coming to Seattle, everybody knew that and he didn't doubt the truth of it. But that was where all certainties stopped. Only the day before he had been certain that White was behind the hit, but apart from that one call to Paris there wasn't anything linking him to the assassin.

He watched as Asha got up to get herself a beer, but his thoughts kept going around in the same circles. He might not like his association with the elite, but he had their rules ingrained practically from birth. The three groups of people, elite, government and criminals. Nobody else truly mattered. And in this case it had to be one of the three, with White representing the government.

Now, Asha and other sources had more or less confirmed that it wasn't one of the crime bosses who had hired Noir, unless they were very good actors. But if that was the case he'd never find out anyway. Which left only two options, and with no chance of a positive confirmation that White was behind it, it left him with only one way to find out. He had to eliminate the only other possibility.

"So, figured it out yet?" Asha asked as she sat down again, using the pitcher she'd brought to fill his glass as well.

Looking at the invitation again he made up his mind, sometimes his need for information really took him to the worst places. "There's only one other way I can think off to discover if White's behind it. Eliminate the only other people who could've hired her from the list."

"And who're that?"

Flourishing the invitation to her, he asked. "Do you want to come to this party?"

….…

As the evening progressed, the two of them were joined by Original Cindy and Sketchy, who both wanted to hear how their friend was doing.

"Max is fine," Logan reiterated once again. But now that both of them were there he also needed to give them Max's message. "She wants you two to be careful though."

"Why? Original Cindy is always careful, and even this fool watches his words."

"Hey, who're you calling a fool?"

"Shut up, Sketchy."

Ignoring the constant bickering of the two friends he went on. "I'm sure that you're both careful, but an assassin is coming to town, and with Max as a possible target, the two of you might be used against her."

"Original Cindy ain't scared of no one."

"The assassin's called Noir."

"Okay, you've got Original Cindy's attention, 'cause she's heard of that bitch."

"Well, I haven't, what's so special about him?"

"Her, fool. And I'll tell you later. If the bitch is after my boo, I want to know why and how we can stop her."

"Stop her?"

"Well, I ain't gonna fight her, but there must be something we can do to stop her."

"Max asked me to tell you, so you'd be warned. It wouldn't be the first time she'd go after friends or family to get to her target, so you two better be careful, alright?"

"Aiight, there ain't no one who's gonna use Original Cindy to get to her boo, you can count on that."

"Yeah, me too. Max is our friend, no chick is gonna get the better of me."

Watching the two make their promise not to betray Max, he wondered how long they'd be able to stand against the maiden with black hands. And what Max would do if they were taken.

X.X.X

It was a relaxing night, Dawn summarized her feelings. Despite the fact that she was forced to constantly wear a mask she almost felt as if she was having fun. And she had actually accomplished quite a lot today, her cover for wanting information about the transgenics was in place. She had finalized her plan for contacting 452, and would probably make her move in two or three days.

But before that happened, she could have some actual fun. Have her usual morbid thoughts driven from her mind, while in the throes of passion. It was one of the few things she had discovered that actually helped her to stay sane. And besides, it was a nice way to spend a night. The only thing that bothered her about it was that she wasn't certain if she could still claim the title 'maiden with the black hands'. There was no doubt about the color of her hands, but she didn't really fit the maiden part anymore.

Oh well, it wasn't as if that really mattered. She rather doubted that all the women in the thousand-year-old tradition had practiced abstinence. After all, it was a good way to get close to a target. Tonight though, it wouldn't be about her target. Not that Victor was unlikely ever to become one, because he most definitely fit the profile, but he wasn't the reason she was here.

Briefly she wondered if Jacob had any idea of what his friend exactly did. She had no doubts about Samantha, the woman was capable of recognizing only one kind of evil, and that wasn't the human kind. But no, she doubted even Jacob knew the full extent of Victor's practices. Had he known he would never have allowed him to come here, let alone attempt to court her. In a way it was cute to discover that he actually tried his hand at matchmaking. Part of the reason was probably for Samantha, although the latter knew it couldn't possibly be anything lasting, but knowing the man it was likely some business dealings were involved as well.

But that didn't matter, all that mattered right now was that she'd get to spend a pleasant evening. Victor was trying to talk to her about business, but as he was a man, distracting him was easy. She had an itch and she had no intention of waiting any longer for it to be scratched.

Getting up from her chair she approached her chosen victim, and straddled his legs. She could feel the dress riding up, and the sudden chill of the air-conditioning felt very good against her bare legs. The fact that he was distracted by that sight was simply an added benefit. When she then spoke, she made sure it was in a low and seductive tone. "So Victor, I couldn't help but notice that you're rather interested in me. Now, I can think of only three reasons. One, you're after my money or business interests. Two, you're after my personality, which I doubt since you don't know me yet. Or three, you're after my body."

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything she cut him off. "You only get one chance to tell me. And there is only one thing you've got a chance of achieving tonight, so which one is it." To emphasize her point she wiggled a little as she bent forward, until their foreheads were touching and she could stare in his eyes.

She showed her innocent eyes, one of the few remainders of the kinder Kirika, as she knew from experience that dropping her mask and showing her emotionless self really killed the mood. Licking his lips he started to speak "Ehm, I'm not entirely sure what you mean." Ahh, how cute. She'd managed to make him lose his confidence.

Oh well, that just meant she'd have to help him. Leaning even more forward she bit his earlobe—not too hard, that would come later—before breathing in his ear. "Of course you do, and tonight you might get what you've been waiting for, all those long, _hard_, and lonely years." Once she'd spoken those words she nibbled a bit more on his ear and guided his hands to her bare legs.

"Oh god," he nearly moaned, as she let his hands go and trailed hers across his body.

"Not quite, but you might start feeling as if you're in heaven," Dawn said before suddenly stopping everything, and, ignoring the heavy scent of arousal in the air, she spoke in a tone without any trace of the passion that guided her actions. "If you actually manage to give me the right answer." She just loved messing with people's heads.

"What?" Victor seemed confused for a moment, and stopped his own hands where they were on her back. "Oh, you. It's you that I want, you, your body, whatever. Just don't stop."

"Now that is what I wanted to hear," Dawn smiled, but as she was about to drop her knives to tear his clothes from his body her eye caught the calendar on the wall. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what she had almost done. Not today. Never on this day. Blanching in revulsion, she scrambled to get of Victor's legs and backed away from him. "No, not today."

How could this day have snuck up on her? How could she have forgotten about it? Never again would she sleep with anyone on this day. She would never defile the bittersweet memories of this day by sharing her body with someone else. Especially not with a lowlife like Victor.

Normally she didn't really care who she shared her bed with, it was after all merely something to help her stay sane. But there were two days every year when she would always sleep alone, two days that were more important to her than any others. The day of her graduation, and the other one—the one that was even more important to her.

So, ignoring the frustrated comments and questions of the others she continued walking backwards, not turning around until she bumped into a table. But when she finally did turn it was a precursor to her running exit, fleeing from both the situation and, more importantly, from the memories this day brought.

* * *

Post-fic comments: I managed to create a decent divider for the scenes, this has been changed in the previous chapters now as well.

MaxS452, thanks for the review. I hope you'll like this part as well.

Everybody, thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a message on your way out.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_June 2003_

Done. She was finally done with this nonsense. No more school for her. She was freed from the bonds that kept her here.

Shifting a little in the uncomfortable seat, Dawn listened to the valedictorian of the class of 2003 make his speech. Not that she was actually paying any attention to it, she didn't really care about the guy—or any of her other classmates for that matter—but she had to at least pretend to pay attention. But she was distracted by the knowledge that this was the last day before she started her honest life.

Okay, she admitted, honest might not be the word most people would use in describing how she intended to live her life, but at least she wouldn't be living a lie anymore. So, in that respect, she was being more than honest. But man, was this speech boring. And this wasn't even the last one; couldn't they make an event like this at least a bit fun? Was that really too much to ask?

It probably was. Not to mention that the only graduation she had ever heard about that wasn't boring hadn't exactly been fun either. So many people had died on that day – both people she didn't care about and others who she actually did care about. Would that day have gone differently if she had been there? Would she have been able to kill the mayor in that short time he was neither invulnerable nor yet a full demon?

It was a question that had plagued her ever since she heard how Faith had died during the fight. Faith, the second Slayer after her sister's death, had been someone she liked. Oh, there had been some trouble between the Boston native and the original Scoobies, but that friction hadn't stopped her from liking the girl. And while she hadn't been able to fill the gap that had been left by the death of Buffy and her mom, unlike Kendra this Slayer had been able to engender a feeling of… of what exactly? Sisterhood? She had never really examined her relationship with the brunette, but they had been close.

She had met the girl on one of her visits to Sunnydale. As had become the habit during those visits, her sister's friends had been grilling her again about information of what she'd done to Spike and Drusilla. Why they still tried to do that she couldn't understand, after all she hadn't given them any information the five other times they'd tried. But she wasn't about to complain; it was a good opportunity to be close to Xander, and that was something she relished.

But during that interrogation the Slayer had suddenly entered the library. And on that moment her attention had been drawn away from her husband-to-be. The vitality that the Slayer radiated had been so intense that Dawn had momentarily believed she was seeing a vision from her past. For the first time in her life she was facing a Slayer who took joy in her work. A Slayer who saw the world as her private playground. Intellectually she'd known it wasn't possible, but she had still been half-surprised when she heard the name. Faith, not Chloe.

It was ridiculous anyway, no matter how much Faith reminded her of that former partner it couldn't have been the self-proclaimed other half of the True Noir. But the similarities… even during that short meeting where she first shook the other's powerful hand, she had been able to predict how the Slayer would react in dozens of situations. For the rest of that day she had ignored the Scoobies—even Xander—and focused entirely on this fresh breath of air. The penchant for bladed weapons and the joy she found in killing were just two of the many things Faith had in common with the second-best assassin of her other home world.

Sometimes Dawn wondered how Buffy would have reacted to her brazen counterpart, but these musings usually ended the same way as when she thought about how her own life would have been had her sister been alive. Killing was bad, and there was no excuse for it. Not that Faith had done a lot of killing, she had mostly just gotten rid of demons and such, only that one tiny accident could be counted as a kill, but well… That was an accident, and if the others hadn't gone so far overboard about the whole situation it wouldn't even have mattered.

But they had, and until her next visit there had been a lot of tension going on between the people meant to save the world. The tension had grown so thick that when she arrived during one of those confrontations she had almost been able to slice it with a knife. The only one supporting the Slayer had strangely enough been Cordelia, who claimed that it didn't matter that one person had died. Faith had already saved so many more that when it came down to statistics it wouldn't really be noticed.

With her own voice then added to the argument the group had made up enough to at least be polite to each other. But even now she still sometimes late at night blamed the Scoobies for their behavior, knowing that that conflict was what eventually led to the death of her two only real friends among them. That it had been Cordy who chose the side of Faith still surprised her.

Upon first meeting Faith she had immediately recognized that the rich girl wouldn't like the Slayer much. After all, she had likened her to Mireille far too often not to be able to predict the clashing of those two powerful personalities. The only difference was that this time the person standing between them hadn't been her, but Xander.

Of course, she hadn't been happy with the Slayer either when she found out about the thing with Xander, but it wasn't the first time that Xander had fallen for someone she liked as well. They had eventually made up and she had resigned herself to the fact that Xander simply had a good taste when it came to women, something that would undoubtedly work in her advantage once the day arrived that she was old enough to make use of it. A day that would now never come. No, she shook her head in an attempt not to think about that anymore and tried to focus on happier moments.

Her time with the two other girls had been pleasant. In a way Chloe's dream had finally come true; the three of them together. Of course, they had all three been in other bodies—and two of them didn't even know about Noir—but those had been the only times aside from her time with Jane, Sara, or Dave that she came close to having fun.

Five friends, it sounded like so few, especially when you considered she only saw four of them maybe once a month. But it had been so much, and had been so important to her. Her only links to real human emotions, something she had lost but was still anxious to see in others. Especially since it was so important for her to be able to simulate them. She had experimented with feeling some emotions, but it had been hard on her. There were no positive emotions left inside of her, and if she didn't have the advantages, why would she accept the drawbacks?

As the people around her suddenly rose to their feet for applause she quickly joined them, berating herself for losing track of where she was. That was something she really couldn't afford anymore now that her time had come. Only three more of these ridiculous speeches to go, and then she could leave this city on a real mission, not another of these half-baked jobs she had done up until now. Oh yes, after today Noir would once again walk the Earth and deliver justice.

Her kind of justice; where it really was an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. They had taken most of what she cared about. They had taken her future. And now, the US military would find out why they shouldn't have messed around with things they didn't understand.

X.X.X

"No, this just won't do," Dave sighed as he looked his living room over. It had to be perfect when Dawn arrived but unfortunately this wasn't even close. While the dinner table was—in his not so humble opinion—a masterpiece, the rest of the room was still one big mess. Okay, maybe not a mess, but not the way he wanted it either. Stepping over to the most offending decoration, he picked up the candle and considered where he should put it. Eventually, after careful deliberation, he found the perfect spot and when he finally put it down he couldn't stop himself from emitting a sigh of relief.

"That's better." While the move wasn't much, those couple of inches to the left had been just what the room needed. Now all that he really needed was his cooking to go just as well. Remembering the food he carefully sniffed the air, confident that nothing had gone wrong, but when he detected a faint burning scent he immediately ran into the kitchen.

"Oh gods, no. Don't let anything have happened." He was so terrified by that possibility that it took him a couple of seconds to realize that the steaks weren't even on the fire yet. Where was this going? That damned girl had him all twisted up in knots and he didn't have any way to get out of her grasp. Not that he wanted that, after all, in her grasp was exactly where he wanted to end up.

Shaking his head in order to dispel the sudden onslaught of daydreams he brought back his attention to the real world. While he was confident that someday he'd be able to seduce the beautiful brunette, she obviously wasn't interested in him. But on the upside, she wasn't interested in anyone else either. The main reason for that immediately put a damper on his mood however; she was still mourning for that guy from Sunnydale. And as this Xander had by now reached nearly divine status, he could only hope that he'd ever have even the slightest chance.

Trying some of the sauce he decided that it needed a bit more seasoning and once some more spices had been thrown in, he stirred again. Round, and round, and round. Just like on Dawn's prom. The night that had proven to be both the best, and worst of his life. Dancing the night away with her had finally made him realize that he really was in love with her. But the slightly distracted air she carried around her made the non-existence of his chances just a bit too clear for his tastes.

Why had he fallen for her? What could possibly be so interesting about such a strong young woman, whose dark hair glinted if the sun struck it just right, who was so smart, so beautiful, so… aargh! He was doing it again. Every single time he tried to come up with reasons why he shouldn't be so influenced by something like the way her hair always seemed to smell like the floral shampoo she used, or how her lips would taste.

No! Stop that. Stepping back from the furnace he took a deep breath in order to calm his raging heart. This was just another dinner, like the two of them had so many times before. All four times, a treacherous thought interrupted. Deciding he needed a distraction, he cast a glance about he found only one thing that might work.

Of course, if you considered the universe's strange humor, it was obvious that the doorbell would ring right after he'd turned open the cold-water tap and stuck his head under the streaming water.

She was here. Standing up straight, Dave ignored the spray of water that he threw around the kitchen and completely forgetting what he probably looked like he ran to open the door. He couldn't possibly let her stand outside like that.

"Hey Dawn."

"Dave?" It sounded a bit hesitant and surprised, something he wasn't used to when it came to the girl in front of him.

"What is it?"

"Why do you look like some kind of drowned kitten?" Oh god. He froze in shock when he registered the meaning of her words; he'd ruined his chances completely. A feeling of mortification completely suffused his body and he couldn't stop berating himself. He didn't know how long he stood there before he finally realized Dawn was talking to him.

"Sorry, what?"

"Can. I. Come. In." Ouch, this evening was getting worse every minute, now she was pissed at him.

"Of course you can, come in." And stepping to the side he extravagantly waved her inside. A move he was sure would have looked perfect if there hadn't been a big drop of water on the tip of his nose. Sometimes life really sucked.

….…

Despite the shaky start, the evening had gone pretty well. The food had been good—Dawn had actually complimented him on it, which by itself was worth all that time spent in the kitchen—and the conversation had been kept at a level where his friend hadn't felt the need to clam up. No mentions of the supernatural, nothing about Sunnydale, her boss wasn't mentioned, and they hadn't spoken about what her plans were for the future.

But that casual easiness was about to be broken, as Dawn spoke from the side of the couch she was using. "You were there, weren't you?"

Damn, he'd hoped she hadn't noticed him. "Yes."

"Why? I told you it wasn't anything important." Which of course, was one of the mysteries about her. Practically every teenager defined their life by their graduation from high school, but that wasn't the case with Dawn. As long as he'd known her she'd told him she didn't really care about it, and it wasn't as if she was just saying that either. During the ceremony it had been obvious to him that she had been bored by the whole affair.

'I wanted to see the moment when the girl I love received the ticket to her life', was what he thought, but the only thing he could get out was something completely different. "I just… you know, wanted to see it."

"Why?" Why? Why was she so persistent?

"Because I… ah, was curious. I mean, it's not like I've ever had one and most people I know don't exactly have graduations either." For a couple of seconds after he'd told her that half-truth she kept staring at him, in what looked to him like an attempt to get the whole truth. But he managed to withstand that onslaught and she finally looked away, before changing the subject.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I was afraid to do so." What? For a single moment his hopes soared to undreamed heights. He couldn't have helped but notice that she had arrived with a backpack—probably full of clothes—and two small business suitcases. Or whatever those things were called. The kind people used when large amounts of money had to be paid. But the exact name of the things wasn't important, all that mattered right now was the possibility that she wanted to move in with him, so he had to drag the information out of her.

"What do you want to tell me?" The words didn't come out as calm as he'd planned; but, Dave reassured himself, considering that his heart was lodged in his throat and his mouth as dry as a desert in a heat wave, he didn't do too badly.

Dawn sighed, and he couldn't help but have his hopes rise again. It couldn't be anything else, could it? "I'm leaving Los Angeles." Oh… It could be something else. It took him a while to fully understand the implications of what she'd just said, and hadn't said.

"No. You can't be."

"I am."

Impossible. Mere seconds ago he'd been the luckiest guy on the planet, but now all his hopes for a perfect future had been crushed. Leaving only an empty husk, unless… There was a chance, there was always a chance and he should try. No, do, or do not. There is no try. "When will you be back?"

"I won't." He had been right about that. Okay, next question.

"Can I come?"

"No." Sometimes he hated being right, and this was definitely one of those times.

"Stay."

"No."

"But I need you."

Dave could see the sigh of frustration forming before she even let it out. The sigh that signified that while she believed he was asking things he shouldn't be, the questions weren't bad enough for her to cut him off. "Dave, you're a good friend, but there are things I need to do. Things that can't be put off any longer."

Sunnydale. She was going after those military people. He had really hoped she'd put that behind her, but obviously she had only pretended. But he couldn't just let her go. No matter the outcome of her fight with the government, he'd never see her again. And that just couldn't happen. So, suddenly getting to his feet he decided to take the biggest gamble of his life.

Walking over to the stereo he put on the CD he'd bought that very afternoon, and closing his eyes he let the sweet sound roll over him. This had been the same music they'd played on the prom, that day of days for which he'd been asked to accompany the beautiful girl who was now threatening to leave his life. No, he wouldn't allow that to happen. Humming along with the music he turned back to face Dawn and holding out his hand he asked her to dance.

As he'd expected, she accepted. The girl was brilliant, maybe not when it came to book knowledge but when it came to assessing tactical situations she was probably even better than her boss. After all, that guy still made her do the planning for the missions. But despite her brilliance, over the years he had learned how he could influence her slightly. No big decisions or anything, but it had made her slightly predictable in her dealings with him. And right now what she wanted was to stop him from bothering her about a decision that had been made long before.

For a couple of minutes they simply swayed along with the music, before a slightly more energetic tune came and he was able to put one of the styles he'd been taught into practice. Something that made him wonder when and where Dawn had learned to dance. Unlike him she hadn't taken any classes before the prom, but had outclassed him when it came down to the actual dancing. And while it was a little upsetting that he'd gotten so blasé about it all, he just put it down to another strange thing about the girl. And one that didn't matter right now.

Holding her a little closer again, he whispered in her hair. "This is nice, don't you think?"

Dawn didn't use any words to reply but he could feel her nod where she was resting her head on his shoulder. And as he was pretty certain she had her eyes closed, he considered that his cue.

Lifting her hair, he exposed her creamy-white neck and planted a feather-light kiss on it. Light or not, it received an immediate reaction as the girl in his arms froze and spoke to him in an abnormally poised tone of voice. "What was that?"

Do, or do not. "I'm giving you a reason to stay." And with those words he placed a second kiss on her neck.

"Don't," Dawn said while trying to step out of his reach, only to be stopped by his encircling arms.

Dave knew that whatever was going to happen, that moment where she allowed his arms to stop her retreat signified the moment she agreed with it. Oh, she might have something to say about it later, but she was more than capable of breaking free. So, armed with new confidence, he kissed her on the forehead.

"Stop it," came the whisper.

"And why should I do that?" Dave murmured back, still with his lips attached to her face.

"This shouldn't be happening."

He couldn't hold back his smile, never before had he known her to try to argue her way out of something, at least not in a situation like this where there was a far easier way to deal with the problem. And slowly putting a hand under her chin, he raised her face until he was staring into those two dark pools of hidden knowledge that she called her eyes.

And kissed her on the lips.

That moment seemed to last forever, and with his tongue begging for permission to enter her mouth he enjoyed what little he could. Until her mouth opened and their tongues dueled for supremacy of their mouths; causing his heart to come close to exploding from happiness. She was kissing him back! And not only that, he realized as he felt her arms snake around his neck, she was deepening the kiss. Taking that as a sign he should do the same, he cradled her face in his hands.

"Dave," Dawn panted when they separated from the kiss.

"Dawn," he murmured back, before taking a good look at her eyes again. Her eyes that had lost their earlier fear and were now completely dominated by passion, something that made him realize exactly how far this evening might go. And together with that realization his confidence was boosted and he decided to risk everything.

Lowering his head for another kiss he tasted the sweetness of her mouth, while slipping his hands under her shirt and caressing her bare back, before going lower and taking hold of two round globes there, pulling her even closer. Only a short stiffening of her body betrayed her inexperience in these matters, before Dawn let out a low moan of contentment and he slowly, but surely, started to divest her of her clothing.

X.X.X

Lying in the bed, Dawn considered her current situation. How could she have been so blind about her friend? Why hadn't she noticed how he felt about her? While that was a good question, it didn't really matter right now. She needed to decide on her next course of action. She had to leave, but could she leave Dave behind? Or should she take him along?

The warm arm that encircled her waist moved a little and she froze, hoping that her musing hadn't woken the boy up. But luckily he didn't show any sign of waking up and she let out a slight breath of relief. She didn't want him to try to influence her again, his actions this night had already proven to be far too effective for her to want to face them again.

His actions, losing herself in passion had an entirely different effect from anything she had imagined such a thing might have had. For the first time in years she had a clear head, her thoughts came at speeds that she could barely remember having had two years before. The therapeutic effects of sex. She had to stop herself from making a sound to show her disbelief of that. But despite the ridiculousness of it all, it did seem to have stopped her recent slide into the abyss. While she had tried to repress it, recent events had started to show her that she was her own greatest danger.

Battles where she suddenly reverted to the way she had acted when it came to killing Ethan, fights where she lost her grasp on the situation as she suddenly focused on a single person. Not to mention the fuzzy way her mind had started to act at less deadly times. Less deadly, but just as dangerous. Especially when it happened around her family.

Ruthlessly repressing a shudder, she remembered some of the moments members of her family had come so close to discovering what she did in her free time. The only reason she had gotten away with some of those events was that nobody would ever believe that even she was capable of that. Even she. This time she couldn't suppress a sigh as she reflected on part of the reason she wanted to leave this city and never return.

While she had been able to close the distance with her family a bit, mainly for the sake of maintaining her cover, she still had the same problems with them—nobody understood her. Okay, that wasn't all that strange, but still… it wasn't that difficult to sit down with her in an attempt to discover her problems was it? Of course, she wouldn't have given them any answers, but the least they could've done was to make the attempt.

Upset by these annoying memories, Dawn decided to take a shower. She felt sticky from all the sweat, and other fluids, and had a feeling being clean might improve her mood. Whether it actually would was still uncertain, but at least it gave her something else to think about.

Carefully lifting Dave's arm and scooting over to the side she did her best not to wake him up. The need for some quiet time hadn't passed yet; there were still a great number of questions that needed to be answered before she'd be willing to face him again. Unfortunately the fact that he was suddenly missing her warm body seemed to wake him up and as he started to rouse from sleep she quickly placed a finger on his lips.

"Ssh, sleep," she whispered in an attempt to stop him from waking up. That was supposed to work, and for once something happened the way it should as he only mumbled something incomprehensible before turning over and continue sleeping. For another couple of minutes she remained where she was, just in case he might wake up again, but when it was obvious he'd be asleep for a while yet she made her way to the tiny bathroom.

Stepping under the shower, she reveled in the feeling of lukewarm water cascading on her body. Closing her eyes she raised her head upwards and remembered times she stood like this in completely different parts of the world. Places she was going to be visiting again. Well, in this body it would be the first time she went there, but once she was done with taking her revenge on those responsible for the death of her friends she would finally go home.

Home, strange how that place seemed to have moved over the years. Before that Halloween her home had first been Los Angeles and then Sunnydale. After she had gained an extra set of memories however, there were two more places she considered home. Never Japan, that had only been a temporary stop, but Mireille's apartment had become a home for her and she longed to return to the city of light. And there was yet another place that kept calling to her.

The Manor. That beautiful ancient ruin originally built by the Romans, and later turned into the one thing that represented Soldats. Another thing she was in two minds about. Oh, they had tried to kill both Mireille and her, but aside from that she had to admit that their impression of humanity was very accurate. If only they hadn't strayed from their original path so much they would have been a force for good. Okay, maybe not good, but they wouldn't have been really bad either.

But nothing like that mattered. After drinking some of the water, which was still falling down on her face, she turned the shower off and stepped out. The convictions of Soldats had been drilled into her however, and there were times where she realized exactly how right they had been and she wished that they existed in this world as well. If they did however, she had never found any proof of it, and that wasn't because she hadn't looked for it.

Finishing toweling off she took her time fixing her hair, in what was ever more turning into an obvious attempt to put off the inevitable. Her decision about what she was going to do had been taken even before Dave had finally fallen asleep, but had been slightly altered when he did.

She would leave. Tonight. There was no question about it, she just couldn't afford to wait any longer. Were she to wait until the morning Dave might be able to persuade her otherwise, and Dawn didn't want that to happen. Looking herself over in the mirror she couldn't help but notice the tears that started to form in her eyes. Tears that in recent years she had only shed on two occasions; when Buffy and her mom died, and when Sunnydale had been destroyed.

She was close to crying again however, and while she couldn't afford to show that weakness now she was honest enough to herself to admit she couldn't stop them. But she could hold them back just a little while longer, and so she did. Striding out of the bathroom she made her way back to the living room, where she collected her clothes and put them into her backpack, from which she took fresh ones.

Once dressed however there was little left to do and she felt the first tear streaking down her face as she opened one of her briefcases. The salty taste as the drop entered her mouth reminded her of the food she had eaten only hours before and called on more tears. Why had he said it? Even if she hadn't been faking sleep he should have realized that saying those three words just wasn't done.

But he did, and now she had to deal with it. Taking the things she needed Dawn walked back to the bedroom as she assembled them, while at the same time trying to clear the mist before her eyes. Once she reached the door and saw him lying in the light shining in through the window she simply had to explain what she was about to do, so she whispered, making sure it wasn't loud enough to wake him.

"I'm sorry Dave, but you shouldn't have said it. I can't afford that. Everybody used to agree on it. Love kills people."

Deciding there was nothing she could do to put this moment off any longer she raised her gun and, aiming carefully over the silencer, pulled the trigger.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_June 12, 2021_

It was eight o'clock when Dawn finally joined her for breakfast, a time that surprised Samantha. As far as she knew the other woman always rose early, and when you calculated the jetlag into it she should have been up for hours already. Maybe it had something to do with what had happened the previous evening; and that was something she really needed to understand anyway. Dawn had never been what you might call prudish, not that she was always looking for an opportunity to have sex, it was just that she didn't really care what others thought of her.

No, that wasn't true. The front that she projected was very important for her, and the facelifts and other operations she had were mostly for show. Oh, she probably had the benefit of being in better shape than most people her age, but really, other than vanity, what reason could there possibly be for that many makeovers?

"Morning," was the first word out of Dawn's mouth as she sat down at the table.

"Good morning, how come you're so late? It's not like you had a reason to stay awake last night." Okay, so her guest wasn't the only one capable of acting without the slightest sign of tact.

"I had some tension to work out, so I went to the gym."

So last night really had been about the date, but what was it about that day? "There was someone else here last night who was more than willing to help you out in that regard."

"Don't remind me. That was a mistake I don't plan on making again."

Mistake? Sometimes the damn woman could be so ambiguous, what had been the mistake? Seducing Victor, or walking away once she had succeeded? "What was that all about anyway?"

Dawn didn't immediately answer, but took her time to pour herself a glass of orange juice first. "The eleventh of June is a special day to me. Something happened on that day, something that changed the course of my life."

Okay, that sounded important but Samantha still didn't understand what that had to do with anything. Not that she actually expected to receive a decent answer, but she was tenacious. "Really? How did it change your life then?"

Boom. Clang. If faces came with sound effects that was probably what she would have heard as Dawn's face suddenly closed up completely. No more answers would be forthcoming from that direction, and in fact she had a feeling that any moment now the subject would be changed. "Tell me about the nightlife here."

Nightlife? The change might have been expected, the subject wasn't. "You mean things like bars and clubs?"

"No, I mean vampires, demons and magic users." Oh, of course she wanted to know about that. She never should have told Dawn about how she once knew a Slayer, but she'd had a couple of drinks. And besides, who would believe something as ridiculous as a vampire could actually exist?

So she had been more than surprised when the woman before her had known about them. And from what she later found out Dawn had not only known several Slayers, she had been the sister of one. Of course, by the time she understood the way Slayers were called she already knew something about the fate of that sister. Although Dawn had been rather reticent about mentioning the details of how her sister's replacement had come to be called.

Not that that was strange in itself, it was just that she wanted to know what could have possibly taken down a Slayer. From what Dawn told her back then, Samantha understood that this Buffy had been very good, so it couldn't have just been simple happenstance. Asking about the details wasn't only useless though, it was rude as well, so she hadn't asked again. After all she knew better than most that there were some things you simply didn't talk about.

"There isn't all that much to tell." A raised eyebrow was the only response she got on that, so she expanded on that statement. "With the transgenics running around the city demons are afraid they might get exposed as well. So they either leave the city or stay low."

"How did you get that information?"

"Yes, it's mostly speculation." Rolling her eyes at the round-about way that question was asked, Samantha continued. "But it's also based on facts, despite the transgenics running around, crimes involving strange looking people have dropped."

"Dropped? You've got someone taking statistics on that?"

"Of course, you mean you don't have something like that in Paris?"

"Not really, no. I don't interfere with their business, and they leave me and mine alone."

"You mean you've got all that money but don't use it to fight them?" Okay, she had to admit she wasn't doing a lot in that direction either, but she had her reasons for that. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

"Not directly."

Not directly? That implied she did do something. "Then how?"

Dawn didn't seem to want to answer that question, but after taking a couple of more bites of her sandwich she did so anyway. "I'm leveling the playing field."

"Leveling the… oh, you mean?"

Her only answer was an undecipherable look that implied both nothing and everything at the same time. Of course, it made sense. The woman's interest in the transgenics, her comments the night before about genetic research, and of course the fact that she owned companies that did research into that direction. But a plan like that would take decades to finish, maybe even centuries. How could she plan ahead that much?

"But there isn't anything you think I should know about considering the nightlife?"

Slowly shaking her head in denial, Samantha answered the only way she could. "No, there are hardly any of them left, and I don't think they'll be coming out much during the next few nights anyway."

"Why not?"

"There's a rumor that someone's coming here."

"The Slayer?"

"No, an assassin. You've probably heard of her, it's the one who calls herself Noir."

If this news surprised the other woman it didn't show in her actions, as Dawn's face remained a blank slate, not giving anything away. "Interesting."

"Yes, on the other hand it will probably mean you won't have to be as careful as usual. There are quite some parts of Seattle that you shouldn't go to during other times, but I don't think you'll have any reason to worry now. Who knows, they might even think you are Noir herself." That joke even got a smile from Dawn, and she shook her own head in wonder. How did she come up with something like that? Kind Dawn, who obviously even balked at killing the filthy inhuman creatures of the night, being mistaken for a professional assassin? "Anyway, have you made any plans for today?"

"I'll go explore the city for a while. Try to think of a way to contact the transgenic leader."

"Alone?"

"Always." And with a slight smile on her face Dawn stood up, signifying breakfast was over and the two of them should go about their respective business.

X.X.X

Walking through Seattle was a disconcerting event; she had not spent a lot of time in the city during her last visit, but it was obvious that the Pulse had had a great impact on it. The moment she was away from the rich neighborhood where the Masters lived, Dawn could see what the city was really like.

Not the unconcerned and happy citizens of times past, instead the people living here these days looked more like the inhabitants of an occupied city. Always careful what they said, and doing their best not to get noticed by the ever-present police, people looked like they had given up on a happy life. No, shaking her head, and stopping to enjoy a moment of Seattle's rare sun, Dawn reconsidered that opinion. That was just her imagination that compared these people to the inhabitants of European and Asiatic cities.

At first glance they might look like they had given up hope, but when she took a second look—while trying to ignore her preconceptions—Dawn noticed the happiness that was there after all. The happiness that signified to her the strength of human nature. That part of humanity that nothing could ever quench, the hope that one day things would get better. But until that day arrived these people would live their lives the only way they could, always armed with the knowledge that this was only temporarily.

In a way it reminded her of Sunnydale, that town where she had spent little over a year but which had proven to be ever so important. There too, people had found a way to live with the ever-present darkness that threatened to overshadow their every action. Unlike here though it was even worse as the darkness had always been so close and, while not quite intangible, wasn't something that could be easily fought either. But even there people had found a way to live their lives without crumbling because of the pressure.

They forgot; it was so easy for those people to forget about the strange events that took place. One day you went to school and suddenly someone was missing, he didn't speak up at the roll call and his parents had no idea where he was either. No, he had never returned home the night before.

Oh well, what did it matter to the rest of the class? His friends mourned for a few days but then they simply went on with their own lives, until the next time someone disappeared.

As she stepped over the body of someone reeking of alcohol—who obviously hadn't been able to deal—Dawn did something that she had started to do more often of late. She envied those people. How easy would life have been if she hadn't known about the things that went bump in the night? How would her life have been if she had bought her Halloween costume at a different place?

The same questions she always asked herself, despite the knowledge that doing so would do her no good. What worried her though was the fact that these questions seemed to pop up more and more often. And not just the questions either, for some time now there had been the doubt as well.

Doubt that she was doing the right thing, doubt that all her plans might not work, doubts about the past, the present, and the future. As she was getting closer and closer to the perimeter around Terminal City she considered the conversation she had with Samantha. Nice, comfortable, easygoing, and most of all gullible Samantha.

Making jokes about her being Noir while there were so many people who would never joke about that—because they had found out. And she remembered them all. From the old man, who had been one of the first targets while working with Mireille, to Ethan Rayne and the young child of one of LA's judges. That was the curse that came with a trained memory.

She had never asked for the ability to be able to remember everything she saw and did. It had been one of those things that Soldats had deemed important for an assassin to know and with the merging that ability had transferred to the combined mind of the new Dawn. For years she had only seen the positive sides of that ability, but recently…

The nightmares weren't things she could easily ignore, and why was she starting to have them anyway? Had she, after all these years, finally gained an annoying conscience? That seemed almost too unlikely, but it might be the reason for these strange events.

"I'm sorry miss, but you can't come any closer."

Looking at the police officer who was barring her way, Dawn's instincts screamed for a response that would leave the man's bloody corpse lying on the ground. The temerity of that man to believe he had the right to stop her from going where she wanted. But, without showing any outward sign of her internal struggle, it was reason that won out, causing her answer to be delivered with her mouth, instead of her weapons. "Why not, officer?"

The man blinked at that, obviously he believed it was still way too early for him to answer a stupid question like that. Always let people underestimate you, never show your true capabilities to anyone that you don't trust. And only trust those incapable of spreading the information. "This is where the perimeter around Terminal City starts. And a classy lady such as yourself wouldn't want to be in such a rough neighborhood, would she?"

Actually, she would. There was someone important behind that perimeter. Someone she needed to see, someone she needed to… No, she had allowed herself to be distracted by her thoughts again. Instead of immediately answering the man though, she first looked behind him at the large group of police and national guard in place. "But surely I wouldn't be in any danger with so many of your colleagues around, would I?"

"Perhaps not, but it's better if you don't take the risk. The streets aren't exactly safe at the moment."

"Why not?" And for once she asked a question that truly puzzled her, during her walk to the perimeter she hadn't seen any crimes going on. No purse snatching, no drug dealings, there hadn't even been groups of lowlifes hanging around to bother her. "I didn't see anything."

With that question she seemed to reach the end of the officer's self-control. He was getting fed up with her and wanted her to leave. So he would undoubtedly tell her the real reason, instead of talking around it. "That's because of the Pax Noir."

The words themselves came as a huge surprise, but Dawn did her best not to let any of it show on her face. A fact not easily accomplished, but necessary nonetheless. "The Black Peace? What's that? It doesn't really sound dangerous." Nothing in her voice betrayed the emotions that were coursing through her body. Surprise, anger, happiness, and a lot others warred for control but none could gain a clear advantage over any of the others and before they could start posing any risks to her she purged herself of all emotions.

The officer meanwhile sighed at the stupid behavior of another rich woman, probably wondering why they were always so incapable of doing anything. "Look, miss. There's no reason for you to understand what I'm talking about. But if you want my advice, go home, lock the door, and try again in a week. This mess should be over by then."

Well, when the man's right, he's right. She didn't doubt the fact that this would all be over in a week, but that didn't mean she liked his prediction in that same direction. She had known that the police would be aware of her imminent arrival, as somewhere along the line she had lost the ability to move to a city without its inhabitants finding out. Not that it mattered, her cover was far too extensive and, if necessary, would be able to stand up to any scrutiny it might be subjected to.

As a source of information the police officer had lost his use however, and without bothering to say goodbye she turned around to storm off. Let him brag to his friends how he'd managed to piss off some stupid rich broad, she had better things to do. Turning a corner into a grubby-looking side street, Dawn continued her stroll through the city. Although she was mainly looking down at the ground, Dawn did notice what was happening around her. Not that she let anyone notice that of course, and so it was that after she had walked for maybe five more minutes someone once again interrupted her musings.

"I'm sorry miss, but you're not allowed to come here."

Opening her eyes in surprise, Dawn focused their innocent look on the officer in front of her. "Why not, officer?" Two down, about twenty more to go.

X.X.X

"Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is an Eyes Only streaming freedom video bulletin. The cable hack will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left in this city." Hearing the all too familiar words, Original Cindy joined her fellow messengers in looking at the television.

After the warning she had received the day before she wondered if that was what this broadcast was about as well. But when Eyes Only started on a different subject she tuned the message out and spent her time watching her co-workers. Due to the whole hostage situation _Jam Pony_ had become famous overnight, literally, and the extra business that had brought had forced Normal to hire more staff.

Well, that and the fact that he had suddenly lost several of his employees, including his golden boy. A grin formed at the memory of how the man had looked when Alec had grabbed the gun from his hand, but when she noticed Normal looking at her suspiciously she quickly stifled it and turned her mind back to where it belonged. The new guys.

Even Sketchy had noticed that there was something off about most of them, and, while he was one of her best friends, nobody could deny that Sketchy wasn't the most observant guy around. Most likely they were government people, or maybe some of them were from that cult Max had told her about. Whatever their origin, they stood out like a sore thumb among the usual degenerates, as Normal so often called them.

"Well, that was interesting."

"What?" Original Cindy turned to look at Sketchy.

"You know, what Eyes Only was just sayin', weren't you listening?"

"Nah," she shook her head as she answered him. "I was thinkin' of somethin' else."

Sketchy looked thoughtful as he answered. "The thing Logan told us about?"

"That too."

"What else then?"

"These fools who're here ta keep an eye on us. Jus' in case Max or Alec return, as if they'd be that stupid." Okay, when she said it like that it didn't seem all that useless for them to be here. Alec was far too focused on his own survival to risk going back to a place he had mainly used to have a legitimate source of income, but Original Cindy also knew that her friend had more ties to this building.

"Oh, that," Sketchy answered while trying to inconspicuously observe the agents, thereby drawing their attention as he completely failed in that regard. "Yeah, I wonder how long they'll be here before they give up on that."

"Or when the man fires them. All the fools do is to try an' hang around here as long as they can."

"He did hire that kid this morning. Maybe he's tryin' to find replacements."

"Could be," before she could counter his argument though she noticed the sudden movements of the aforementioned people. A brunette woman came walking into the building. No scratch that, a fine brunette woman came walking into the building. The spies, or whatever they were, probably checked her out because her basic description was kinda like Max'. Not that she looked like her boo at all, but the fools probably didn't know that.

Original Cindy however had a completely different reason for checking the woman out, a reason that was very similar to why Sketchy and almost every other male in the building was doing so. This really was one fine looking woman. Within moments however she noticed the tiny details that turned her off; the woman walked around as if she owned the building, and while she didn't mind a bit of ego in a woman, there was a limit to what she was able to stand. And this woman was one person who had obviously overdosed on it. Combined with the expensive looking clothes it could only mean she was some kind of spoiled rich kid, and as she realized that Original Cindy lost all interest. People like that came with far too many complications.

"Wow," Sketchy sighed as he continued to stare at the woman, something that for some strange reason irritated Original Cindy.

"Stop droolin' fool. She's way outta your league."

"What makes you think that?" He answered, not taking his eyes of the rich bitch for even a moment.

"Look at her, she's some kinda spoiled rich kid. The only reason she's here is 'cause she wants to check out where the 'freaks' held people hostage." As if she'd heard her words the brunette looked in her direction and for a moment the two women locked eyes. An experience that wasn't like anything Original Cindy had expected. The brown eyes she stared in seemed to be the saddest pair of eyes she had ever encountered.

While their eyes were locked like that, she felt as if she could drown in those expressive eyes. What terrible things had this woman undergone? Why did she look as if she had just lost everything she cared about? While it seemed to go on for an eternity, the moment had soon passed and the eyes had changed again. A vapid look had settled over the woman's face as she scanned the rest of the building, looking for all the world as if that brief show of emotion had never happened.

Shivering without really knowing why, Original Cindy couldn't get the memory of those eyes out of her mind. For that brief moment it had been as if she'd stepped into a completely different world. It was almost as if the woman had come from a world where the Pulse never happened, where life had gone on as it had been supposed to. But it was also a world where happiness wasn't considered important.

"-Normal," Sketchy said, breaking her train of thought.

"What was that?"

"I said, she's here to see Normal."

And indeed, that seemed to be the truth. Having seen what she had wanted to see the woman stepped over to their boss. And, like most of her colleagues, Original Cindy did her best to try and hear what they would be talking about. It seemed ridiculous that someone like that would come here for a job, but, if the testosterone that had suddenly reared its head among the men was any indication, that was what most of them hoped she'd come here for.

"Hi, I would like to have this packet delivered please," the woman said, without noticing the effect those words had on the other people in the building. Original Cindy however could hardly contain her laughter; the disappointed faces all around her were a good distraction from the memory of those eyes. And as the conversation between the woman and Normal turned to what it would cost to have something delivered, she turned her mind to more interesting things.

A fine-looking woman had come into the building, but she wasn't Original Cindy's type and had only been there for business. What did it matter how those eyes had looked? There were more important things in life that she should concern herself with, for one she still had some packages to deliver. So before Normal could 'bip, bip, bip' her, she grabbed her bag and took off on another run.

X.X.X

Mere minutes after she had noticed the dark-skinned girl leave _Jam Pony_, Dawn did the same. She had spent enough time inside the building to get a first impression about it and, more importantly, the people who worked there.

It had been impressive how fast Original Cindy had decided she wasn't interesting enough to drool over. At least one person had had the self-control to look beyond the physical appearance and examine the fake identity she portrayed. The others had been so focused on imagining what she would look like naked that it wouldn't have surprised her if someone thought there had been a water leak. But that wasn't important.

The only reason she had gone into the building was to get a good look at the principals in this little game. Original Cindy, Sketchy, and even Normal. The others had been unimportant, as they hadn't been as involved with 452 as these three had. Besides, she had noticed the brief hesitation in some of the workers there. As if for a moment they had believed she was 452, a reaction that indicated they only had some low-quality images of the transgenic.

Everywhere she was going though, there seemed to be someone trying to stop her from achieving her goal. Aside from the number of law enforcement officers involved with the blockade there had been others as well. Bounty hunters, or maybe even people with a grudge against her. She hadn't recognized anyone, but you never knew about something like that. It wouldn't be the first time someone had wanted to take their revenge on her for killing their father, daughter, brother, aunt, or favorite dog.

She allowed a slight smile to grace her face at that last ridiculous thought; she only killed humans, not animals. But bad jokes aside, she wasn't happy about the presence of those bounty hunters. Oh, she had known it was inevitable that they would show up, but she had hoped that it would at least been limited to human scum. The demons had been hidden well enough that she hadn't seen any, but the signs had been everywhere. Not that she could describe exactly what it was that told her she was being watched by any nonhumans, but she knew.

"Can't be helped though," Dawn muttered while continuing her walk to the mansion. If there were demons standing between her and her goal, well, they would just have to be removed like everyone else. Never let it be said that she was a racist, the species or color of a person didn't matter to her when they needed to be removed from the playing field. Nothing could stand against the maiden with black hands.

Taking a look at her watch however made her realize that her exploration of the city had taken longer than she'd planned. There were still some things she needed to do before the party that evening and she'd better hurry if she wanted to finish them all.

X.X.X

Walking to the brightly lit mansion was in Logan's opinion the only good thing that would happen that evening. No wait, there would be something even better later on, walking home. But unfortunately this was one event that was too important to miss, and his personal feelings be damned. This was for Max. Someone was planning on having her assassinated, and tonight he would find out who that someone was.

Bracing himself he looked at his companion and couldn't stop himself from feeling the regret that was caused by who she was. The last time he had been forced to go to one of these things he had gone together with Max, who in her own indomitable way had gotten herself a dress by 'borrowing' it from a store. Now however he wasn't accompanied by her, and for a moment he wondered if it maybe he should have gone alone after all. But no, two people saw more than one.

"You okay?" Asha asked him, probably concerned about the way he had been staring in her direction without actually looking at her.

"I'm fine." Taking a deep breath he scolded his traitorous thoughts. No matter how her actions after the incident at Jam Pony might be interpreted, he had to remember that Max was with Alec now. She was with one of her own kind now, something he just had to learn how to live with it. And like her he should be moving on with his life, and he would. As soon as it stopped hurting so much. "Let's do this, shall we?"

At her curt nod he rang the doorbell, using the time before it was opened to compose himself and focus on the mission, instead of his failed love life. The butler who opened the door escorted them to the room where the party was already started and led them directly to their hosts. At least the man hadn't felt the need to announce the two of them to the entire room, he had always hated it when that happened.

"Ah Logan, I see you made it. And who is your beautiful companion?" Samantha Masters greeted him, obviously doing her best to hide her surprise that he had shown up. But even that unexpected surprise was better than her husband's clear disapproval of his presence here. If they felt that way about his presence here, why had they invited him?

"Samantha, Jacob," Logan said, while doing his best to ignore those reactions, "it is my pleasure to introduce you to a good friend of mine. Asha Barlowe. Asha, meet Samantha and Jacob Masters, our hosts of the evening."

"Pleased to meet you," Asha said, starting to raise her hand so she could greet them properly, but—obviously feeling the same disapproval he did—she quickly lowered it again. What was it with these two people? He had never really gotten along with them, but for duty's sake he had appeared at their parties several times. Never had he been treated to such a cold reception however. But if they didn't want him here, why had they sent the invitation?

"It's good to meet you too dear," Samantha answered the greeting, clearly doing her best to remain civil, but even her good acting couldn't cover the disapproval practically radiating from Jacob. It did make Logan suddenly realize that the man of the house hadn't said a single word yet. That was probably a good thing though, Jacob Masters was many things but a good diplomat wasn't one of them. His outspokenness and inability to hide his distaste of what he considered polite lying was probably the only thing that Logan respected about him.

Seconds had passed in polite chit-chat between the women, but he could already see the signs that indicated Samantha's opinion about Asha. His companion obviously wasn't educated enough, didn't have enough money, and was obviously only a low-life profiteer. Realization hit him then, was that how they considered him as well? Because he had accepted an invitation to a place he no longer had any right to visit? He didn't really want to believe it, but when the next guests who arrived were announced the moment they stepped through the door he realized that was exactly what had happened. The unwritten rules of high society had never seemed so harsh before.

Using the announcement of their new guests as their excuse, the Masters' were off, leaving Logan and Asha standing alone. "Well, that was fun," Asha told him, obviously not used to being treated like that.

"I think I may have made a mistake in coming here after all."

"Why? Because we're treated like a couple of insignificant nobodies?" his companion asked. Clearly not as bothered by what had just happened as he was.

"Actually, yes. That does have something to do with it."

"Don't worry. People like that have looked down upon me for my entire life, you just have to learn how to live with it."

Sure, he might not have wanted the approval of his former peers, but now that he was faced with the consequences of losing it entirely Logan didn't like it one bit. "Really? And how do you propose to do that?" he bit out, not caring if it made him look like a spoiled child.

"Simple," Asha said, while taking two glasses from a passing waiter, and handing one of them to him. "They might look down on you, but what have they actually done that really matters? In the last month alone, you have achieved more than they are likely to do for the rest of their lives. Doesn't that tell you something? It shouldn't be they who look down on you, but you should be the one to look down on them."

She might have a point there, but it was hard to actually credit it while he was standing there, sipping a glass of exquisite champagne while all around him people he knew were casting disapproving looks in his direction. "Let's just do what we came here for, shall we? I think it might be best if we split up though. Most of these people have no idea who you are, or came with, so they'll probably at least pretend to be polite to you. That way at least one of us has a chance to get some information."

"Right," Asha nodded her tentative approval. From the way she looked it was obvious she wasn't very happy about having to walk through enemy territory all by herself, but the conclusion was a logical one. For a moment he watched as she wove her way through the milling people, once again wishing that it had been Max who had come here with him. She would have been able to get so much more information out of these people, but it wasn't long before he shook that thought off and turned around to start his own trek through the crowd.

For the next hour he tried to get some information, but every single time he attempted to enter a conversation he was stared away. The message became clear that these people didn't want anything to do with him, and his mood became more and more depressed. Twirling his glass of champagne around in his hand he thought about the option of just indulging himself and get roaring drunk. That would probably make these people feel vindicated about their behavior, and while he didn't like that, he was pretty sure that if he drank enough he wouldn't care.

With a regretful sigh he put the half-full glass aside however, this wasn't the time or the place for something like that. As Asha had said, he just had to remember that these people weren't as important as they believed themselves to be. He was after all Eyes Only and because of him this city was now a far safer place to live in. Or it would have been if the holes he created in the criminal world hadn't been filled up almost immediately.

No, no more negative thoughts like that. He had been doing a good job, and now he really should continue. If he hadn't given up after White had destroyed his apartment and equipment, he really shouldn't start doing it when the odds for success where far higher. Looking around to see if there was anyone who he might approach without being told to leave.

When he finally noticed the strangely familiar, but unknown, woman in a stylish dress he decided he might as well try to find out if she knew anything. The chances weren't high, but it was better than nothing.

"Hello mister Cale," the woman said when he had neared her. The fact that she knew him was surprising enough, but that she identified him while she still had her back to him wasn't something he had expected. "Don't look so surprised mister Cale, surely you are aware that things aren't always what they seem."

What could she mean by that? He opened his mouth to ask her but before the words left his mouth he finally noticed the mirror through which she was looking at him. Only when he met her eyes in there did she turn around with a tiny smirk on her face, and raised her eyebrows in an obvious attempt to get him to speak. "I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage ma'am."

"Indeed I do." Oh wonderful, someone that enjoyed playing games, combined with the way she had made him look like a fool moments before, this behavior gave him an instant dislike for the woman. And any other time he would have just walked away, but as she was probably the only person around who was willing to talk to him, he didn't have a choice but to continue.

"May I ask your name then?"

"Of course." In an attempt to control his mounting temper he lightly bit his lip, just enough to have it hurt, but not enough to draw blood. Alright, if that was how this was going to be he just had to throw politeness out of the door and ask his questions directly. He was after all a reporter and therefore knew how to do that.

"What is your name?"

"I'm Dawn Summers, pleased to meet you." And with that she stuck out her hand, suddenly acting quite polite. As he grabbed the deceptively strong hand, Logan thought about what he knew of the woman before him. She was about thirty-seven years old, although she didn't look like she was a day over twenty-five, and while born in the States she had left for France shortly before the Pulse. There she had used her wealth to start her own company, which had grown from there.

Nobody knew how she had obtained the starters money, but despite several investigations, instigated by her competitors, there had never been any proof of anything illegal where it concerned her company. Her involvement with the company itself was never really clear however. There was a CEO who was supposed to be in control, but according to the rumors he didn't do anything without her approval. The most important single fact about that company was what interested Logan however.

Genetic research. A lot of her money was made by genetic research, mostly by improving crops, but there was a small, yet significant, division that was concerned with improving the human race. Specifically something that had once upon a time been called gene-doping. The program was nowhere as drastic as Manticore, but similar programs had been debated ferociously during the 2012 and 2016 Olympics.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. May I ask what brought you here?"

"Of course." No. Not again! Sensing his mood however, Summers smiled and spoke again. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist that."

"It's alright," he sighed in frustration. Damned control freak. "What brought you here?"

"An airplane." He didn't know what his face looked like at that moment, but if her laughter was any indication it wasn't exactly pretty.

When he finally had his temper firmly back in control, Summers had stopped laughing, and everybody else was once again focusing on their own business he once more rephrased his question. "What I obviously wanted to ask-"

"But didn't."

He ignored the annoying comment and continued without missing a beat. "Was why you're here, in Seattle I mean." Who knew what she'd answer if he didn't add that last part.

"You're catching on. But to answer your question, I have some business to complete here."

"What kind of business?"

"The kind that you shouldn't pry in." Very well, he'd just have to try and use other sources to find out why she was in Seattle then. That was alright, he would have done that anyway, if only to check if she'd lied to him.

An hour passed while the two of them talked about varying subjects, no matter what the subject was however, he never managed to find out her opinion about any of them. He was a good journalist and reporter, but the woman he was facing now was so slippery it was almost unbelievable. And the worst thing was that he couldn't detect a single lie, nor did she ever contradict herself.

"Hey," Asha said as she joined the two of them, having given up on her attempt to get information.

"Hello, miss Barlowe." How did she know Asha?

"Uh, hello. I don't mean to be rude, but who are you and how do you know my name?"

"I'm Dawn Summers, and as for knowing your name. I asked Samantha." Oh, well that did make sense of course.

Asha simply laughed at that, probably thinking she was way too suspicious of that sudden knowledge. He really should try to make it clear to her that she should be suspicious of whatever this woman said. You couldn't become that slippery by doing everything legally. "Anyway, I was wondering."

"How interesting," Summers muttered, although Logan started to have a feeling she mainly did that because it bothered him.

"Isn't it? Anyway, do you happen to know why that man over there looks like he's angry at you?"

"Oh, you mean Victor? It's not really important, when I arrived here last night he and I flirted a bit, but he wanted to take it further than I did. So he's probably only a bit frustrated, sexually that is." Victor? Logan cast a look around until he noticed who they had been talking about, and when he identified this Victor as Victor Jackson he immediately smelled trouble. No matter who you were, it couldn't possibly be a smart thing to piss off someone who was so obviously tied to the criminal underworld. Not that he had any proof of those connections, but he was certain they were there. Summers however didn't appear worried, and when she noticed he was she tried to put him at ease. "Don't worry, he needs something from me, so I don't think he'll try to do anything stupid."

If you say so. But before he could react to that statement, Asha was talking again. "You're staying with the Masters?"

"Yes, Samantha is an old friend of mine."

"This party is for you then?"

A slight smile once again appeared on Summers' face. Apparently she appreciated Asha blunt way of asking questions more than she did his way. Women. "Yeah, in fact that's why your friend here was invited. I wanted to speak to him."

Wait a minute? She was behind the invitation, but how did she even know his name? "Why?"

"I had a feeling you might want to come here for some answers, not that you're likely to get them, and I wanted to find something out."

He wasn't going to find out anything here? Was that a hint that Noir hadn't been hired by anyone here? "What was it that you wanted to find out then?"

Coming to stand closer ho him, Summers told him. "First, I wanted to know if the exoskeleton made any noise, and secondly." This time she moved so close that he could feel her breath on his cheek, and clearly smell the perfume she wore, before whispering so that only he could hear it. "I wanted to find out if your eyes were as expressive here as they are on television."

After saying those words she stepped back, and nodding a short goodbye to the two of them, she walked away, leaving him to stare at her retreating back in consternation. She couldn't possibly know, could she?

* * *

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave some feedback.

Jade eye's, thanks for the review but I'm afraid there was no answer to your question in this chapter. So, I'm afraid you'll have to use your imagination about what happened. Who knows? Maybe I will provide an answer in a later chapter.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_September 2003_

Sitting in the small coffee shop, Dawn perused the newspaper that was sharing the table with a cup of tea. Today there was yet another article about the media-styled 'Soldier Hunter'. Apparently, she sarcastically told herself, someone had been killing members of the military for the last three months. The way these people died was different every time, although often signs of forceful interrogation had been found.

Shaking her head warily, she took hold of the cup of hot liquid and sipped from it, reveling in the bitter taste flooding her mouth. Forceful interrogation, why they didn't simply call it torture was something she would never understand. After all, if there was one person who knew what happened during these interrogations, it was her. And that wasn't the only mistake the reporters made either. They had missed half the bodies!

All the media appeared to be interested in was creating the fear that caused people to buy the papers. Okay, there wasn't really anything new about that, but it was simply ridiculous how any references to the truth came purely as a bonus. Soldier Hunter indeed, she had better things to do than kill a couple of underlings. It had been the scientific part of the Initiative that she'd been most interested in, and that had been the main reason she'd had to—what was it again?—forcefully interrogate some of the soldiers. After all, they knew names, faces and had other relevant information.

Dawn realized that this could simply be a cover-up. That the military was keeping most of the relevant information from the press, like the common denominator all the former targets had. If you looked at it with only a small part of the information it might look as if the targets had all been random, even when they hadn't been.

She sighed at her own folly, this was simply more redundant information. Telling herself things she already knew. Something that had become the norm lately, as without a decent conversation partner she had retreated into herself again.

It was becoming more obvious all the time that being completely alone wasn't a good thing. Not that she hadn't already noticed that before. So, as a way to ground herself, she had taken care to try to be more open and friendly to the people around her. Alright, open was a rather big—huge actually—word for how she was acting to them, but if they thought she was open, who was she to claim otherwise?

"Hiya Kirika," came from the door that was just opening. The voice belonged to a woman who couldn't possibly be more than five years her senior, but right now it sounded like it came from an angel.

"Suzie."

"Y'know wit tha way you always come here this early me boss will start to think Ah'm lazy." But you are lazy, Suzie, and while you're still trying to drag yourself out of bed I've already been curbing my hunger for several hours. Not that she'd had a lot of need for breakfast lately as most of her life took place during the night, but on the days that she actually did get up early she wanted service. But saying so would go against the whole being open and nice thing. Well, not against the open, but it did go against the nice. So which should she choose? Argh! Why did life have to be so difficult?

"Don't worry, you're not that late and I can wait for my breakfast." Nice it was.

That seemed to satisfy the brainless creature. No Dawn, be nice to the stupid woman. "Right on. You'll want your usual then?"

Plastering a well-practiced smile on her face, Dawn merely showed it to the woman and nodded her consent before turning back to the paper lying in front of her with a barely concealed sigh. Wasn't there anyone on this planet—aside from herself—with even half a brain? Closing her eyes and resting her head in her hands she leaned back on her chair until her face was raised towards the ceiling in silent supplication for patience. The patience that she needed while she was staying here in Nowhereville, USA.

Time passed, but she never opened her eyes or changed her position until after her breakfast had been deposited in front of her and Jane had refilled the empty teacup. Dawn was pretty sure that she'd muttered a thank you to the waitress, but even that was fuzzy. She just couldn't bear to hear the woman's name spoken, it always served as a cruel reminder of the friend she had lost.

After composing herself, she finally focused her attention on the hearty breakfast lying in front of her. The fact that the amount of grease dripping from every single item, including the bread, was more than she used to have in a whole week was something that she'd gotten used to by now, and didn't gross her out nearly as much as it did the first time ate breakfast here.

Fit in, eat what the locals eat, no matter what it may look like. A lesson that Altena had taught her—at least she thought it was Altena—and one of the most useful ones she remembered from the infiltration training. Infiltration, not quite how it had been called back then, but the name sufficed for her purposes. Other lessons from those days had been implemented during the past months as well, most importantly her name and appearance.

Give people something to focus on, something that it so out of the ordinary that they don't notice anything else about you. Good advice, and as she needed to have an alias anyway she chose one that was so very much out of the ordinary that it became the only thing people remembered about her. The full-blooded American with the Japanese name, Kirika Yu-something.

Digging into the breakfast she forgot her worries for a moment; despite the way it looked this meal was definitely worth the wait. Meticulously working her way through the eggs, bacon, and other fried goodies she turned her mind to the here and now. This was the town where her next mission was going to take place, and she wondered how long she should wait before making her move.

The information that she kept receiving was nice and all, but if she didn't take the next step anytime soon it might be too late. There was only a small window of opportunity in which she could actually do what needed to be done, and there were only about three days left before it closed.

From the corner of her eye she once again saw the door open and someone enter, but this time the person she recognized wasn't a lazy cook. Instead it was someone she wanted to talk to, someone who gave her the information she so desperately required. She waited until the woman reached her table before raising her head and nodding a greeting. "Hi."

"Hey Kirika, still not getting bored of the greasy stuff?" her target's wife answered while joining her at the table.

X.X.X

"I don't believe it!" Mr. Mansfield shouted out while pacing across the room. "You mean to tell me that while we know that someone is systematically killing off every single member of the Initiative we don't have the slightest clue about who that someone is?"

"There are the rumors about that woman," Charlie tried, only to be put down by his superior.

"Oh yes, the great and mysterious woman who nobody ever remembers anything about except the name. And what a wonderful name it is," Mansfield said while waving his hands in the air. His next words were hissed though, and while they were pretty quiet everybody in the room could hear them. Are you seriously trying to tell me that our people are getting murdered by a cartoon character?"

"Anime, sir," a brave soul dared, but Charlie didn't even try to look at whoever it was. His own comments had already gotten him into deeper trouble than they had been worth, no need to add to them.

"Excuse me! Anime character. Thank you so much for that helpful correction mister Long, I don't know what I would have done without you." While the ranting continued, Charlie tuned it out, opting to mull over the knowledge they had.

This Kirika Yumura, was indeed looking far too much like the person whose name she had taken. In actions that is, because she was good enough at disguises that nobody ever gave the same description. Hah, disguises, his snort earned him a surprised look from a colleague who probably wondered what there was to snort about. Remembering his current location, he tried not to look guilty while risking a peak at Mansfield. Okay, the man was still ranting at Long, poor bastard, so he could easily spend some more time thinking.

Whoever this Kirika really was had obviously watched too many Anime series, movies, whatever. That had to be the only possible explanation of the whole hair thing. Nobody that was in the least bit sane would dye their hair in a different color every week. Not that that would have been so bad, had it not been the sort of color only those ridiculous cartoons used.

And why? Like the rest of the team he too had been forced to watch every single episode of the series, twice. But never in all those twenty-six episodes did the main characters use disguises, so that just had to be a clue. Something they should be able to use to determine her identity.

"Have you useless pieces of shit at least made some progress on the list of possible suspects?" This question tore his attention back, as it indicated that his superior had regained at least a modicum of sanity.

As it was one of the most obvious aspects of a case like this they had done so, and Charlie waited patiently while Kevin Dursmeyer rose to his feet to explain their progress there.

"Yes sir, we have made progress. As you are aware we only started doing this a month ago though, and there are a lot of possible suspects."

"Quit whining about your excuses, and tell me what I want to know. Damn group of sissyboys." While the last part was spoken quietly, there was no doubt in Charlie's mind that he hadn't been the only one who heard it, or had been meant to hear it.

Kevin had obviously heard it as well, as he stiffened slightly before continuing with his report. "We've been trying to figure out who could possibly have a reason to hate the Initiative."

"Everybody who knew someone in Sunnydale," was spoken not-quite inaudibly, causing Kevin to stop once again while he considered that statement. And probably wonder if Mansfield was going to come down on the person who spoke, but when that didn't happen he continued his explanation.

"Yes, everybody who knew someone in Sunnydale is a suspect. But as we have some information about the perpetrator we have been able to dismiss a large number of candidates. Obviously it isn't a man, which means that we can dismiss about half of the list. Witnesses have estimated her age at somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five, but taking into account her excellent capabilities with make-up we have extended this with five years in each direction."

"You can put the five years on the bottom back. This one's a pro. There's no way that she could have possibly gained this much skill in the time since the bombing. Unless of course you think that she was capable of gaining skills like these overnight?" The challenging tone in Mansfield's voice was enough for Charlie to realize that it might not be a particularly smart thing to oppose their boss on this issue. No matter how much was possible with the use of magic, the man had made up his mind and wasn't likely to consider other possibilities.

"Ah, yes sir. Although-" Kevin started again, but stopped when he noticed the left eyebrow of their superior rise to dangerous heights. "Right. Now because of this we have been able to dismiss anyone above forty and under twenty, twenty-five I mean. Aside from this we know that the perpetrator is capable of traveling from one side of the country to the other within a time frame that suggests the use of airplanes. This means that people who can't afford this are shunted to a secondary list, just in case they have financial backing."

There was a silence before Mansfield spoke up again, with a question that Charlie could see made his friend sweat even worse. "That's it? That's all you know?"

"Well sir, we have considered the possibility that she lived nearby the first place we know that she was active. So our first check was focused on the state of Florida, but as we came up without any solid leads we decided that the demise of private Peters was planned, and not just a spur of the moment decision."

"Yeah, yeah, I could have told you that. How many people are left on your little list?"

"Ah, let me check sir." Kevin bent over his desk and after searching through the bunch of papers lying on it extracted a printout that seemed to be full of corrections with a red pen. "At the last count about twenty-five hundred."

"Twenty-five hundred. You're telling me that after discounting so many people you've still got twenty-five hundred left that need to be checked?"

"Yes sir. And that is a low number, only counting former residents and family members of people living there at the time of the bombing. Other factors like old friends have not yet been calculated into it."

But Mansfield didn't seem to want to hear the excuses. "And why is it taking so fuckin' long?"

A beep from his computer, indicating it was finally finished with the heuristic search he'd entered earlier, almost prevented Charlie from hearing the reason explanation his friend used. Not that he didn't know, after all he too had been drafted for checking out the alibis of those people. Man, that had really been one of the most boring jobs he'd ever done. "Sir?"

"Not now, Brooks." Damn, that's what happens when you shoot your mouth of at the wrong time. Next time don't say anything unless asked too, and even then keep strictly to the subject. "Alright Dursmeyer, I want you to speed up the search so that we might actually get this bitch before she's done with her work. Or is that too much trouble?"

Nobody could possibly be fooled by the suddenly sweet disposition of their boss, and Charlie was pretty certain that even Kevin had assessed the situation correctly, as he was nodding frantically. Nonetheless, he made a note to himself to impress the importance of hurrying on his friend. There were things you just shouldn't do while working in certain circles.

"Good. Now that that part of the search is done with, I want you to tell me what's known about the other thing."

The other thing, even after all these years Mansfield couldn't contain his distaste about the sub-tees. Not that Charlie had a better opinion about them, but it was a remarkable thing to see one's superior act like that. Unfortunately this also meant that he wasn't allowed to speak up yet. The whole speech that followed was long, flowery, full of nonsense, and came basically down to a couple of facts.

They didn't know how many sub-tees had escaped from the facility when it went wrong there, and it was unknown how many of them had subsequently survived the destruction of Sunnydale. There was no knowledge about the number of their kind with whom they might have talked about it, and since most abilities of the non-humans were still unknown it was more than possible that Kirika was one of them.

"In other words, you don't know shit and didn't even have the decency to tell me that in a couple of words?" Mansfield asked, once again getting angrier and angrier, causing the poor guy who had been elected to report to sit down with a beet-red face. "Alright then Brooks, your turn. But you'd better have something worthwhile."

Finally! "I know who the next target is sir."

X.X.X

There was something wrong with this entire situation. Unfortunately Dawn couldn't put her finger on what exactly bothered her about it. She'd first felt it when she gave her fake name at the registry of the motel she was staying at. And now that she was once again walking through the quiet streets of this small Iowa town the feeling had returned tenfold.

Despite the heat coming from the sun—that had finally decided to show itself—a shiver ran down her spine. Was she being watched? It sure felt like it, but she couldn't be certain. Professionals then? That was a good possibility, but how could they have figured out where she was? It shouldn't be possible. No! Don't ever believe that you're infallible, deal with the consequences but never believe your opponents won't be able to surprise you.

Those words weren't ones that she had been taught, but there hadn't been any need to do so, as they were obvious beyond belief. And her feelings had been right often enough in the past to ensure that she'd listen to them. But where could they be? And who could they be? Did she have time to return to her room before they got there, whoever they were?

A mental review of the weapons she was carrying, a single knife hidden at the small of her back, and one concealed in each of her boots, told her what she needed to know about that. Yes, she needed more weapons, or at least more suitable weapons. And the fastest way to get those was by going to her room, only if that location was compromised should she look elsewhere.

Hurrying through the streets Dawn wondered where she had gone wrong. How had they managed to track her? No, she was being silly. Her path might not be the easiest to follow, but if they put enough people on it there wasn't much she could do to prevent them from catching up. There were always witnesses, and she had been stupid enough to keep using the same name.

But using that name came so easily; she reacted to it so naturally that nobody would ever suspect that it was an alias. Unfortunately it seemed that it had now become useless. After finishing this job, it was time to completely change her name and appearance. Dawn sighed a bit at that, she had actually gotten to like the green hair she was currently wearing. Should she dye it blond next time? That was done by so many people that nobody would pay any attention to it. Or maybe brown, and make it look like a dye job gone wrong. Having any potential witnesses being able to give the military her real hair color wasn't among the things she wanted to do.

Now wasn't the time to think about that though. Having reached a slightly busier street she paid more attention to the people around her, even greeting the shop owners. Yes, she had been right, there was something terribly wrong. The people who she'd come to know these last days now seemed to be afraid of something, or at the very least nervous. Ergo, she was too late.

Moments after making this observation she spotted the first undercover agent. Well, someone who looked like an undercover agent at least. There was no neat suit, and he lacked the whole body language that screamed he was a member of some sort of service, but he didn't have the casual laid back manner the people around him had either. And besides, he didn't look nervous. Wasn't that a contradiction? Being both laid back and nervous? Not important Dawn, pay attention to your enemies.

They were here. Spotting a side alley she quickly ducked into it, making sure her observer noticed her doing so. It was time to deal with the first of these people who were trying to prevent her from doing what truly mattered. They were about to learn that it wasn't a good thing to mess with Noir.

Shortly after that Halloween, all those years ago, Buffy had told her about Angel and how he was one of the good guys. Briefly she wondered what had ever become of the vampire, but dismissed the useless thought from her mind instantly, that wasn't what she needed to think about. The important thing was that her sister had also told Dawn about her first meeting with Angel, and as her eyes landed on the sturdy looking bar above her she allowed a smile to cross her face. Despite everything, those smiles did actually seem to come easier these days.

"I lost her, do you have a visual on her?" The man asked, while Dawn looked on from above. Unlike Buffy she couldn't do a handstand on an elevated bar for several minutes, so she had chose to simply squat on top of it, and, to make it a bit more difficult for the man who was now listening to his orders, she had chosen to do so in the shadows.

"She hasn't exited? Then she must still be around here. Yes, I do realize that means she's spotted me but I'm more than capable of handling her." At those words he produced a gun, a big gun at that, which he took in a two-handed grip while scanning the alley. Why didn't anyone ever look up in these cases? Was it because of instinct? Did it have to do with the fact that all predators that were dangerous to mankind hunted on the ground? While she didn't really care for the reason, Dawn was grateful for the habit. And when the man had walked a bit further and had his back to her, she let herself drop behind him.

A loud sound from the man's earplug indicated that she'd been spotted and that the information had been transmitted. Whoever had done the spotting had obviously only just set up where he could see her, as otherwise he would have done so before. Buffy had had the benefit of the night, in this case it was a bright and sunny day. Bright, sunny, and soon to be bloody

Her opponent was pretty good, not turning around to look behind him in fear but actually diving forward and rolling his body in such a way that he came out with his gun pointing in her direction. At least, that's what she assumed was the plan. After all, while he might be good she was better and he never made it that far. Halfway during the dive her knife had unerringly found his neck, severing the spine and thereby instantly preventing his body from receiving its commands. Oh, and killing him in the process, but she considered that a positive side-effect.

One down. The thought wasn't voiced aloud, as doing so was unnecessary and might actually draw attention. She was in the middle of a mission, and during missions it was silence that was important, not acting like a nice person. Kneeling down next to the corpse, Dawn tore her knife from the corpse and cleaned it on the man's clothes.

Only after putting it back in its customary place did she grab the gun, and the feeling of the ranged weapon immediately made her feel safer. Oh, she knew that was ridiculous, as it wasn't the weapon that made her safe, but the ability to strike her enemies down from a distance was rather useful in a situation like this. Going over the body she looked for any extra clips he might be carrying, when she suddenly heard a sound behind her.

Turning around she saw a woman standing there, and immediately all thoughts of looking for ammunition were forgotten. She had been here too long and needed to leave now while the woman was still surprised by the sight of a corpse.

The woman's surprise didn't last long however, and the moment she noticed the gun in Dawn's hand she shrieked. "Murderer! Help! Someone's been killed! Help!" A long second passed, during which Dawn did her best to restrain the urge to shoot this woman. The urge to feel the primitive pleasure in watching the woman's head explode from contact with one of the .45 bullets the gun contained was great.

After that long, conflicted, second however, reason won out and Dawn once again turned around so she could use the other exit. She couldn't afford to waste a bullet on someone like that—she had to assume that this was the only gun she could use until she had access to her own weapons.

Running through the alley, she didn't even slow down when at the other end a man and woman suddenly appeared with guns in their hands. Raising her own weapon, Dawn let their boss know that the score was 3-0 in her advantage. And even then she didn't slow down until she was close enough that she might get their guns.

Unfortunately, while bending over to take the first she was shaken out of her self-congratulatory mood as a bullet impacted on the wall next to her, sending a sliver of stone to scratch her face.

X.X.X

"We've just lost Saunders and Black, sir." The report was delivered in completely neutral tones, but even so Riley had to do his best to keep from flinching at the casual way another team of agents had been killed. Had he been in charge he would have changed the plan by now, but he wasn't and the man that was in charge didn't seem inclined to give up on his current strategy.

"That makes nine. Did she have time to get their guns?"

The technician who was looking at the monitors shook his head while following the woman on the screen. "No sir, she's still only got the one from Bloomberg."

"Excellent," Mansfield said, clearly not bothered at all by the way his men seemed to be dying, "she'll soon be out of ammo and then we can take her."

"Are you sure this'll work?" Riley silently cursed his traitorous mouth, insulting this man's plan was not a good idea.

"Of course it will, captain. It's only a matter of time before she makes a mistake. We've got her room completely covered and removed everything she kept in it, so that there won't be any danger of her getting her own weapons." Yeah, the man was far too confident for Riley's tastes, but what could he do? Mansfield had been sent by the people who had backed the Initiative, and professor Walsh, so he outranked Riley. And aside from that, if the man hadn't shown up neither he nor Sam might have lived through the coming night.

Talking of whom. Riley turned to the entrance of the makeshift command post where his wife just walked in. "How's it going?"

"Not good," he answered her question, but was interrupted by Mansfield.

"I've told you before, captain, that the situation is perfectly under control. In fact, I have no doubt that it will be resolved within a matter of minutes."

Realizing there was no way he could explain the situation to Sam with that man overhearing, and commenting on everything, he indicated they should walk to a more isolated spot. She obviously understood the need for privacy, as she waited until they had arrived and even then her question was voiced very quietly. "How bad is it really?"

"So far, nine agents have died. She threw a knife through the first one's neck, after which she took his gun. Sam, this woman is good. And I don't just mean good, but really good. She was cornered in an alley by three agents but took the first two out without even slowing down, and the moment she found out about the one that had been behind her he was as good as dead too."

His wife looked concerned at the information and also surprised. "It's so hard to believe. I mean when I spoke to her just now I thought they had been mistaken. She was just so nice, even to that cook that never comes on time. How can someone as nice as that be such a cold-blooded killer?"

"I can't answer that question, but I do know that the kind of skill she possesses can't possibly be natural."

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering immediately, Riley took a moment to gather his thoughts. He needed to explain this carefully, and in such a way that Sam understood the situation clearly. After all, if he succeeded in explaining his theory to her, he would still need to do so to Mansfield, once this Kirika had escaped from his grasp. That she would escape was something he didn't doubt at all, especially if he was right.

"Riley?" Sam asked, wondering why it took him so long to answer.

"Sorry, just thinking it over for a moment. But I think the situation is far more complicated than anyone believes. Last night after they told us about her I did some research about this Kirika Yumura whose name she uses."

"It's just the name of a character from an Anime series, isn't it?"

"Yes, and no. It is the name of a character, but not just any name. It's a bit difficult to explain as I don't know all that much about it, but from what I understand Kirika is the main character in a series about two, or maybe three, assassins. In that world she is the best of the best, practically trained from birth in the use of every weapon imaginable and she kills without any remorse."

Sam seemed to absorb this knowledge, but from her words it was obvious she connected all the dots he had. "Okay, so this woman is trying to emulate an assassin that has a level of skill that doesn't have an equal in this world. But, besides the obvious, what's so bad about that?"

Now it came. He had checked one little fact during his search for information and, after seeing the woman in action, Riley was certain he was right in his belief. No matter how ridiculous it sounded. "Noir existed before Halloween 1997."

"And?"

"In fact, it was very popular in the months before it."

"Riley, you're not making any sense here. What does the airdate of some show have to do with anything?"

"I've told you about the group of hunters I met in Sunnydale, right?"

For a moment she seemed lost at what undoubtedly looked like a change of subject. "Yeah, they called themselves the Scoobies, didn't they?"

"Right, I never had a lot of contact with them, but once in a while we traded some stories. One of the stories they told me was about a friend of theirs, a girl named Buffy."

"Go on," Sam urged, anxiously awaiting the reason he was talking about his time in Sunnydale.

"I'm not sure how it came up, I think it had something to do with some weird reaction Graham had. Anyway, what I do remember was why the story was so funny. This Buffy had dressed up during Halloween like some piece of fluff from the seventeenth century when someone cast a spell on all the costumes. And because of that she turned into a real piece of fluff, it was even so bad that she thought cars were demons." Remembering that conversation and the warring emotions on Xander's face as he told him about these bittersweet memories, once again brought forward a feeling of regret that he hadn't been able to save the young man.

"That's interesting, and I guess I can understand why that's funny. But I take it that situation was resolved, so what does it have to do with this situation?"

"The guy I talked to told me that even after the spell had been broken, he kept some of the abilities that had come with his character. By the time I spoke to him they had almost faded to nothing, but in his case they had lasted longer than in his friends. I'm not sure why, he never gave me an explanation for it, but I think it had something to do with the fact that he was more like the soldier whose costume he wore than the others had been compared to their costumes."

Judging by the sudden horrified look on Sam's face, it was obvious that by now she understood what he was trying to say. "And you think that?"

"Yes, I think that this woman was from Sunnydale and dressed like this Kirika during that Halloween. But she obviously never lost those abilities, and now she's hunting for the people who destroyed her home."

"That's an interesting theory, captain." Hearing the words coming from behind him, Riley spun around to face Mansfield.

"Ah thank you, sir." Well, what else could he say to something like that?

"I don't believe you're right, except about the motives perhaps, but it does seem like your input is required. Somehow that bunch of incompetents," this last comment was obviously meant for the group of people sitting in front of the monitors, and did indeed cause them to flinch. Mansfield probably wasn't the nicest boss you could have, "has managed to lose our quarry. And as they don't know enough about this little shithole of a town they want to ask you some questions."

The assassin had gotten away, just like he'd known she would. And he also knew that she would be coming for them soon. Unfortunately there was no way he could convince Mansfield of that. The man had obviously made up his mind long ago, and was only interested in proving that he was right, no matter what it might cost his subordinates. Unfortunately the man also was the only chance they had of surviving this situation. Not that he had any great hopes left, if his theory was right someone who was called the Grim Reaper by her enemies was coming for him.

So, instead of immediately jumping to help with the search he spent a long minute staring at his wife. Drinking in her beauty, reveling in the sight of her, and seeing the understanding of what he was doing grow in her eyes. When he finally knew he couldn't postpone the inevitable any longer, he turned around.

Only to immediately turn back, take her beautiful face gently in his hands and kiss her. At least there was one consolation to all of this; if he was going to die he would at least do so in the presence of someone he truly loved. Now if only there was a way to keep her safe like his parents, he could really die in peace. But as their tears mingled where their faces were pressed together it was obvious that they both understood it wasn't to be.

X.X.X

Shaking the agents hadn't been as easy as she'd first believed it would be, but eventually she had found a place that wasn't watched or guarded. Leaning against the wall of the small alley, Dawn allowed her body to slide to the ground. Whoever these people were, they were good. While she had already realized that when she killed the first one, they kept surprising her. And they didn't even have the decency to come with nice surprises; in fact one of the more noticeable surprises was how well they were coordinated.

Every time she managed to kill one agent, another would show up to take his place. It was so bad that she didn't even have the time to gather more weapons. Which was why she was probably almost out of ammo. Flipping the necessary switch on the gun, Dawn ejected the clip from the borrowed gun and checked it, only to have her fears confirmed. The single bullet occupying the chamber was the only one she had left, and knowledge like that didn't exactly fill her with great hope for the situation.

In this life, this world, she had never encountered a situation as desperate as this. For a moment the battle in the Parisian library played in front of her mind's eye, reminding her that she had dealt with situations like this in her other life. That time she had been totally pinned as well, or so it had seemed at the time. As far as battles could be beautiful that one could be ranked among the most so, as it was one of those rare times all three saplings fought together. And it had even had something extra as it had been their initial meeting with Chloe.

Halting the memories, she raised her head from where it was resting against the rough wall. There was no time for nonsense like that when she had to find a way to get out of this mess alive. It couldn't be long before they'd find her again, in a little town like this hiding from motivated people wasn't easy, so she had to think. If she had been the one to be tasked with finding her, what would she have done?

The first they had probably done was to inform the target of the situation, and ask for any information he could give them about the lay of the land. Which meant that, not only would their knowledge of the area be at least as good as hers, getting to the target would be difficult as well. Okay, what else? With the resources she believed them to have they had probably managed to set up a close-circuit monitoring system. Something like that would explain the way they kept popping out of the woodwork.

Assuming the target is good enough to keep out of your hands, what would you do to take her in? Hold on, that reminded her of something. What was their mission anyway? Were the agents trying to capture her, or was it termination on sight?

Right, she snorted, disgusted by the ridiculous thought, as if the original orders mattered now. After someone started killing your friends it became easy for a weapon to be misaligned, or use another excuse for accidentally killing her.

Back to the business at hand however, her room would be staked out. It was the most logical place for her to keep her weapons, but she doubted they would expect her to keep a second stash. After all, you're only paranoid when they aren't really after you.

With a basic plan starting to form in her mind, Dawn decided that any other theories would have to wait though. By now she had a pretty good feeling of the odds she was facing and having regained her breath and confidence she was pretty sure that she could go on. A tiny laugh escaped her mouth, while it wasn't exactly the kind of thing she wanted to do on a regular basis, this whole chase thing did raise the adrenaline to a nice level. Man, did it feel good to be alive.

Holding the gun in the two-handed grip it required, Dawn moved along the wall until she could peer around it. Nobody in sight. Carefully scanning the houses that were within sight she couldn't detect any agents there either. In a small community like this it wasn't very usual for people to lock their doors, and as she had already been able to make use of that fact during her earlier flight she hoped to do so again. The priority right now was simply to get out of this town and retrieve her weapons, nothing else mattered. A last glance still showed that the coast was clear, and she was running again, heading straight for the door of the closest house.

Running as fast as she could, Dawn made her left hand let go of the gun and instead extended it out in front of her. Five steps until she reached the door, and still no sign anyone had seen her. Three, two, and she felt her hand connect with the bronze-colored doorknob. Slipping to a halt, she quietly pushed the door open and practically dove inside the dark hallway.

Tense with the excitement caused by the run, she tried to pay attention to every little detail, both inside and outside. For the next minute she didn't move a muscle, choosing instead to fully concentrate on her auditory senses. When after that time she still didn't hear any signs of pursuit from behind her, she finally dared to walk forward. From the way nobody had appeared after her entrance, Dawn figured the house to be empty and as such was surprised when she suddenly encountered the woman gazing at the baby lying peacefully in the crib.

"Who are you?" the woman asked upon seeing Dawn, before her eyes fell on the gun and her tone became more panicky. "What do you want?"

Answering was a useless action, so she decided against it. Instead opting for waving her gun in an attempt to inform the woman that she shouldn't try any heroics. If nothing happened, nobody would get hurt. All she was interested in was going out through the back and making her way to the next street that would get her closer to her weapons.

The woman seemed to either understand the message, or was so petrified with fear that she didn't dare do anything. A very understandable reaction, it wasn't the first time Dawn had encountered a mother so she had a fairly good idea of their behavior when the lives of their children were at stake. Not believing there was any danger she was therefore surprised when a door was suddenly slammed open behind her.

"BANG! BANG!"

Not bothering with stealth anymore she dove forward and ended up in a perfect execution of the move the first agent had attempted. She hadn't felt any air-pressure from the passing of the bullets, nor had she heard them impact, but that didn't stop her from drawing a perfect shot on the gun-carrying shape coming from the slightly dark room. "No! It's a toy!"

While the shout from the woman informed her of the error, Dawn already knew that it was far too late. Her subconscious had taken over the situation and there wasn't much that she could do but watch events unfold. The face belonging to a surprised looking boy of at most five years suddenly appeared in the doorway, and she winced at the same time as she pulled the trigger. NO! The kid hadn't done anything, hadn't been a target or even associated with the target.

Even though it took the bullet only a fraction of a second to reach the child, it seemed to last forever. She had managed to move the gun a bit before the shot was fired—or was it while it was fired?—but was it enough? A speeding bullet was fast however, even when you were this horrified at your own actions, and it wasn't long before she saw the boy's face turn as white as chalk while a large spot of blood blossomed on his right shoulder.

Relieved that her action hadn't immediately destroyed the boy's life, Dawn felt the world return to its normal speed right at the moment everything seemed to happen at once. The boy spun around his own axis, the baby started to scream and the mother came at her with a feral scream. Even while she registered these events from the safety of her quickly reinstated emotional bleakness that was the true Noir part of her, Dawn realized that there was more going on than this. The gunshot had been loud, a powerful gun like the .45 she was carrying made a lot of noise and it couldn't be long before the agents arrived.

She let the now useless gun drop from her hand while it was en route to the knife that had proven so effective earlier. As expected she had taken hold of it before the woman had reached her. And despite the noise that she intellectually knew was going on around her, Dawn felt at peace. The shock of these events had opened the way to a state she hadn't been able to reach since she heard about Sunnydale's fate. And to thank the woman who made it possible, she was going to let her live.

Even so, the knife nicked the woman's throat before she was able to come to a halt. "Murderer."

"The boy is alive. If you wish to keep him that way you need to do as I say." Oh yes, even the emotionless voice was back. Had she been capable of it, Dawn would have felt like rejoicing. Despite her reassuring words however, the woman's hot gaze implied that she didn't seem the least bit eager to forgive the mistake. Not that she cared. "Come."

Walking to the boy she ordered the woman to turn the boy so that he was lying on his back. Yes, it had been as she expected. While the boy hadn't died from the shot itself, there was a large possibility that he would do so unless immediate action was taken. Despite the danger to her personal safety she decided to sacrifice a bit of her head start in order to save the child's life. These people had made her complete again, and helping them survive would be a worthy repayment.

Cutting the boy's t-shirt open with the knife, Dawn exposed the wound. The white, pulverized, bone was clearly distinguishable from the messy red substance around it. And while it wasn't good for the child that the shoulder bone had cracked, at least it had allowed the bullet to pass through his body, ensuring she didn't need to remove it. Looking at the wound it quickly became clear that there was nothing she could do to help the boy, aside from administering some basic first aid.

This time she used the knife to cut off more of his shirt and propped it together, before putting it into the woman's hands. "Press down on the wound like this. It won't be long before someone will come here, ask them to call the hospital."

No thanks came, not that she had expected it, but having overcome her initial shock she didn't believe she had earned the murderous gaze either. The kid shouldn't have been playing with guns like that, even if they were only toys. "Get out," the woman finally hissed from behind her clenched teeth.

Not bothering to respond verbally, Dawn stepped away from the boy and walked back to gather her gun. It wouldn't be long anyway before the agents showed up again, but at least they would be detained a bit by taking care of the boy. After a last glance at the woman who had now chosen to completely ignore her, and instead focus all of her attention to comforting her child, she then stepped out of the backdoor and into the relative silence of the non-crying zone. A short look around, and she had picked out the next house that she needed to go through. Now with the empty gun tucked in her trousers, and the knife in her hand, she continued her quest for weapons.

….…

Due to the new moon and overcast sky, the night seemed as dark as her soul; a fact that Dawn couldn't help but notice yet ruthlessly put from her mind. She could live in the darkness, always had, and if it was required she always would.

And right now her mind was focused on that worst of all things. Doubt. Was it fair to go after these two people? Was it fair to destroy everything they had build over the years? Did killing them mean she was as bad as the people who'd caused the deaths of her friends? Especially when one of them was innocent in that regard?

Did she care? She couldn't honestly say that she did. But then why was she even thinking about this again? In an attempt to get her mind focused on more important matters, Dawn moved her hands once again over her body to check her weapons. And the comfortable feeling of the tools that she'd finally managed to recover during the afternoon made her think of the trouble she'd had.

The distraction that she'd created with the boy hadn't worked nearly as well as she'd expected it to. The possibility that the agents wouldn't take care of the child had crossed her mind when they were on her tail within minutes, but had been instantly dismissed. A group like theirs couldn't afford the negative publicity that someone talking about it would cause.

Thinking about the group… who were they anyway? She hadn't had a chance to interrogate any of them for information. That was annoying, but she shrugged her concerns about that away. How many possibilities were there? It was a large group, that was obvious from the way they acted and were able to sacrifice their people. And let's not even start thinking about how sick the man who ordered them around had to be.

Of course, their leader could simply be an idiot, but that was a worst-case scenario. She'd rather be facing a predictable professional, even one who didn't care about the casualties his men suffered, than some fool who made reckless mistakes. Not that that didn't have some advantages as well, but those advantages were harder to identify due to the unpredictability of it all.

No! She shook her head in an effort to let the flow of cool air bring her back to what was important. Yes, the leader was a professional who simply didn't mind that some of his men died. Yes, that meant the group was part of a greater whole. Okay, that was an assumption and like all assumptions it might be the mother of all screw-ups, but she had a feeling that it was the correct one.

So, who were they then? FBI? Unlikely, she had no personal experience with the FBI but the impression she'd always had was that they would identify themselves clearly. After all, they were only cops. Cops with more privileges perhaps, but still only a bunch of cops.

Next possibility, the CIA. Another mark in the unlikely column, the CIA mostly did its work outside of the United States and she doubted she was important enough for them to change that. Hmm… Dawn had to admit she wasn't entirely happy with that thought. Sure, she wanted to stay as low-profile as possible, but a bit of recognition wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Next one, she decided quickly to prevent her mind from coming up with even more ridiculous ideas, the NSA. Now these guys she didn't really know a lot about. Sure, she'd read the information on their website and had spoken to some people about them, but that didn't tell her much. Their tactics weren't likely to be published on the Internet, and the informants could always only speak of a friend who'd known someone who might have possibly had some sort of contact with the NSA. Hell, most of her information on them came from watching Enemy of the State and the chances of a movie being right about anything but the name of the agency wasn't something she wanted to stake her life on.

With that marked as a possible, there was only one other group that she could still think of. And as she was pretty sure that they at least were after her that also made a lot more sense. Unfortunately that also meant a bigger problem, as it wasn't exactly clear to her which part of the military it would be.

Instead of trying to figure that out though, Dawn halted her approach for a quick check of her surroundings. It wouldn't be too long now before she reached the dangerous section. Not that there wasn't at least some danger now, but it was unlikely anyone could spot someone dressed as darkly as her from such a distance. Even her face and hair had been covered in her need to stay hidden.

The farm where her targets were located wasn't more than maybe a mile away now, and she could already see the lights from the main house. That was at least where she assumed the light was coming from, but to check that she needed to have a better, and closer, look.

Taking out a pair of binoculars she peered through them, trying to discover the location of those people she knew would be there. Professionals like these agents wouldn't have given up after she lost them. They would try again, and again, until they'd finally have her. And the most likely place for them to take a first shot at that task was right here. It was predictable, and she knew that they knew that she knew that they knew she was coming. Or something like that.

But that didn't yet tell her how they planned on protecting the farm and its inhabitants. Knowing there was a trap was the first step in avoiding it, but it was important to her that she'd get Finn. And he would still be here. After all, the first rule of setting up an effective trap was to make the bait real. If the bait wasn't real the target would avoid it, and they couldn't afford not taking her now. Who knew when she'd show up on their radar again?

Not her at least. She still had to try to figure out the best way to keep hidden from them, and that could only be done if she didn't have any other things to do. And right now she was focused on other things, like the view provided by the binoculars. A view that was so close to unusable that she gave up in disgust. It was simply too dark to make out anything, and she really didn't want to go in if she couldn't identify the dangers.

That left her with only one other option she might try to spot her enemies from this distance. And if that didn't work either she'd have to move closer without that knowledge. Carefully putting back the binoculars she took out a small digital camera. This small piece of equipment was something she'd bought a couple of months ago, to replace the one she'd lost during a mission. It wasn't impressive in any way, except for its small size and the nice night-vision feature.

The only reason she was even now using to it spot her enemies was because she hadn't had the foresight to put real night-vision equipment among her secondary stash. So while the small camera did allow her to see a number of things that she might have missed in other circumstance, it wasn't as effective a tool as it should have been.

It soon became obvious that the camera was useless at this distance, but then again, what did she expect? A LCD screen that small couldn't possibly show her any details from anything that was so far away. And it wasn't as if the digital zoom function was very useful at this distance either.

So, this piece of equipment was returned to its former place as well and Dawn was forced to go on without information of what she was to face. The only thing she could do was speculate about the resistance she was up against, so, while carefully continuing her journey, that was exactly what she did.

The farm itself was approachable from practically every possible direction, which was obviously a point in her favor. The agents wouldn't be able to adequately cover every possible entrance, which left them with two choices. Protect the most likely ones, or fall back to a more defensible position. Which in this case would be the house.

Now, as she was pretty sure they were military, and she knew they wouldn't mind sacrificing a couple of their men, it wasn't that hard to guess what they'd do. Namely both. There would probably be a couple of roving patrols that she'd have to take care of first, and maybe even a sniper or two as well. Once they were gone she wouldn't need to fear an attack from the back and she could penetrate the house. Where undoubtedly she'd have to kill more people before she'd reach her targets.

Targets? Yes, her doubts and conscience had obviously been put at ease. Well, not so much her conscience because putting that to ease would imply she had one, and last time she'd checked it had died a long time ago. Having been destroyed by the grief she'd experienced. Having been destroyed by the military of which her targets were a part. No, she unclenched the hand that had wrapped itself around the butt of her gun, she needed to be calm.

….…

It took her almost half an hour to cover the distance to the farm, but as she surveyed the building and its surroundings from behind her cover she was glad she'd taken the extra time. Aside from the need to stay low, periodic checks with both the binoculars and camera were the main reason for her slow approach. But she had also decided that in this case stealth was far more important than speed. Which, she admitted to herself with a slight grin, seemed almost ridiculous when you considered how she was about to reveal herself.

Apparently the agents had learned something from that afternoon though, as the patrols consisted not of two people, but of four, which was a bit excessive in her opinion. After all, they probably assumed she was still armed with only her knife as they had found and removed the weapons from her room. Okay, a grin appeared on her hidden face as she considered that, they had already learned what she was capable of without a gun. So maybe they had a good reason to be cautious.

That didn't make it any easier though. From behind the sparse cover of a couple of trees, she once again looked over at the patrol she had decided would have to go first. It wouldn't be long now before they'd be where she wanted them. Despite her belief that she could take them out without any real problems, Dawn was rather impressed by them. After shadowing them for quite some time now, it had become obvious they were good at their job.

Once every fifteen minutes they checked in with their fellow agents, and aside from these checks they never once spoke an unnecessary word. In fact, had they faced a less skillful opponent, they would have undoubtedly been successful in their task. But to her it was obvious that their leader had put them there for one single reason. To inform him when she had arrived.

She hated being predictable, but she couldn't ignore these people either. Sooner or later she would have to kill someone, and if the patrols were still alive by that time they would come to her opponents' aid. Which meant that she simply didn't have a choice. And yes, their leader was a real bastard, and this would probably work for him, but there was no way that she'd admit he'd outsmarted her. Not that she had any intention of letting him win this round anyway.

One last confirmation to their leader they were still alive, and the patrol split up. Two of the men pointed their M-16s at the trees while the other two carefully walked over. Wouldn't they get tired of all this? They must've gone through that same routine dozens of times already without any results, yet there was no sign of it in their behavior. Bloody professionals.

Silently she eased her gun from its holster, and eased herself back into the tiny ditch she'd chosen as cover, readying herself for the moment she'd hear that the two scouts were in range. Her plan wasn't easy to accomplish, but it was the only one she'd been able to come up with. It would have been far better if she could simply take out the other two first, but there was simply no place to hide near them. Even her shadowing had taken place from a distance large enough that she couldn't spot them with the naked eye. At least that meant she hadn't brought the camera along for nothing.

When it finally happened, it was over within seconds. For the agents it had to have been a complete surprise when they took their final step and Dawn suddenly appeared. They hadn't believed it to be possible for anyone to hide there, but she had managed to do so and now the time had arrived for them to regret their oversight. Unfortunately for them, that regret didn't last long.

Moving faster than they could react Dawn jumped out of the tiny, hidden, ditch and, without really taking the time to aim, she put a bullet in the throat of the target farthest away. Even before that agent gurgled his final breath she was on the move again. Three steps were all that separated her from the next target, and she crossed that short distance in the blink of an eye. As soon as he was in reach she snaked her left arm around his neck, put her knee against his back, and pulled for all she was worth.

The bulletproof vest the man wore was probably the only reason his spine remained intact, but it didn't stop her from being in complete control of him. She was able to turn him the way she wanted to, and before the bullets from the other two reached her—a mere three seconds after she revealed herself—Dawn was in complete control of the situation.

The only bullet from that first salvo that she actually felt grazed her arm, ended up killing her hostage, and upon exiting his neck almost hit her face. But as it didn't kill her she couldn't care less, and she kept her focus on the battle. The hostage, or rather his armor, had served his purpose already and while his weight was too much for her to keep upright she simply went down with him, thereby retaining her cover.

Bullets struck the corpse of their comrade, but while the powerful weapons easily penetrated his vest from such a short distance. The bullets never reached her, instead remaining lodged either in her hostage's body, or the back of his armor. It wasn't long before her remaining opponents figured that out though, and the moment they did so the two agents started to circle around her.

Dawn herself didn't remain a passive observer either though, and had been shooting back at the agents. Unfortunately, her gun, or rather the bullets it fired, wasn't suited for a battle such as this. The men were crouching in such a way that they completely covered that tiny vulnerable spot she'd used earlier. And naturally the quality armor they wore prevented her bullets from reaching their skin. Silently she cursed her lack of foresight and swore that next time she'd put some armor piercing bullets with her backup weapons as well.

Despite their status as cannon-fodder these men did wear armor that her knives were unlikely to penetrate either. Bulletproof vests weren't exactly known for their ability to withstand knives, unless you went for the good stuff. And well, that's what these people were wearing. Still, there were vulnerabilities she should be able to exploit.

Letting go of the gun that wasn't much use in her current situation, Dawn grabbed one of her throwing knives and aimed carefully. The vulnerable spots above the armor were covered, but the ones below didn't have that luxury.

In other circumstances a single knife for each agent would undoubtedly have been enough. This time however everything seemed to be against her as she needed to balance the body with her wounded arm, while using the other to throw the knife.

In the darkness the targets were almost as hard to see as the knives she threw, but her first target let out a strangled cry as it opened up the artery she'd aimed for. Not many people thought about it, usually focusing on the better known arteries, but opening the femoral artery was far more effective than doing the same in someone's wrist.

The other agent was quick to roll to the side when he noticed his partner scream and collapse though, causing the knife that was meant for him to fly harmlessly past. Focusing more completely on the sole remaining danger, Dawn was finally able to discern a small difference between him and the others. Why was only one of them wearing night vision goggles?

There was no time to think about that though, and she immediately sent another knife in his direction. Once again the constantly moving agent managed to dodge it, all the while moving to a position where she would no longer have the body of his colleague between them. And not only was he circling around her, he was also slowly but steadily moving away from her.

The farther away he'd get, the more difficult it would be for her to kill him with the weapons she had. So she needed something else. Anxiously she looked around to see if she could use one of the M-16s lying around, but none were close enough that she could reach them while retaining her cover. And she couldn't give up on her cover while the agent was aiming at her.

This wasn't going the way she wanted it to, Dawn realized, in fact she came very close to nervously licking her lips. But that was unprofessional behavior, and she should be able to deal without it.

And she could. That was the gift she had received from that family that afternoon, and while running away from them she had managed to kill another agent who had a clear advantage over her. In fact, that situation could have been worse than the one she now found herself in. Lady Luck had been smiling at her though, and upon turning the corner she had been the one to react more quickly. No, that hadn't been luck, it was a testament of her skill.

Of course, this case was different. Here she couldn't simply stab her opponent in the throat while running past. And that was a shame, because that had not only been useful but she still had enough of an American teenager inside her to recognize how cool that move must've looked. Those thoughts flashed through her mind, taking less than a second, but she had still been distracted for that short time and the agent noticed it.

Rising up to his full length, the man took a couple of steps—fast enough that Dawn wasn't able to take advantage of his sudden lack of cover. By the time she had managed to throw another knife he had already dropped to the ground again, having secured his position even better than before.

There was no more time to waste, not when she thought about the other patrols that were around. Letting go of the body Dawn flipped backwards, only allowing her right hand to briefly touch the ground halfway through in order to boost her momentum.

The agent obviously hadn't expected that, leaving her with a brief respite during the time it took him to adjust his aim. A respite that she hoped would be enough. The moment the sound of her first shot had shattered the silence, a mental clock had started running that indicated when she could expect the reinforcements to appear. Two more patrols were on their way, apart from whatever men were hiding among the barns, and they would arrive very soon.

Realizing she had to deal with this agent before the next group arrived, she silently vowed to do so. She also knew that meant she couldn't waste anymore time thinking about things that weren't directly concerned with her situation. She needed focus. She needed clarity. So she took what she needed. It would be a time before this personality would once again be fully integrated in her normal behavior, but as her eyes narrowed she couldn't care less.

This was what she was born to do, and the fool before her was only another target like the dozens of others that she had already dealt with. Everything that had no direct connection to her target or personal safety disappeared. From the memories of what had happened earlier that day to the pain in her arm that she had believed was already being ignored.

Like the internal debate, the change itself only took moment, a period of time so incredibly short it would have been practically impossible to measure it. The effects, on the other hand, were more than noticeable. The moment her feet finally hit the ground she was already moving again, running through the trees on a course that tried to achieve what the agent had just done to her. And like him she was successful in evading the other's aim while doing so.

Bullets slammed into the trees and ground around her, but it wasn't long before her tortured ears were greeted with the silence that followed the click indicating an empty magazine. No matter what kind of weapon you used, sooner or later it ran out of bullets. And once that happened… Death would be knocking on your door.

The agent tried to reload as fast as he could, but it didn't matter. Not even going for his sidearm could have helped him in this case as she was already standing in front of him, having pushed her body to its very limits in her attempt to reach him in as short a time as possible. One quick thrust later and she could watch while the corpse sank to the ground.

Gurgling sounds accompanied that behavior, but the constant barrage of sound from the M-16s ensured she was barely able to hear anything. Which couldn't be good, as more men were about to arrive. Not bothering to even try to spot them in the dark night, Dawn started her preparations. There wasn't much time, and her work here was far from over.

X.X.X

"We have confirmation sir. The target has breached the perimeter," one of the agents who were supposedly protecting Riley suddenly broke the silence that had fallen in the room after they'd heard the sound of the M-16s. Not that he cared about what the man said, as a matter of fact he was debating whether it might not have been better if the Hunter had made her move yesterday.

"Status?" That bastard Mansfield demanded.

The agent remained silent for a moment while he checked both the information on his laptop, and the auditory input he was receiving. "I don't have her on the monitors yet, but teams one and three have reported the gunfire we heard. Team two is no longer responding."

"Impressive." For the first time Riley could actually hear something close to respect for the Hunter in Mansfield's voice. "Don't you think so, captain? It can't have been easy for her to kill one of these patrols. They were good men."

Riley answered the question with a glare, but Mansfield only smiled at that before continuing his speech. "Yes I know they might have taken her out. But if that was the case I'm sure the survivors would have reported in by now."

"Sir?"

"Yes Brooks?"

"We've estimated her approximate location."

Mansfield waited while the man suddenly had a thoughtful look on his face, but when the silence lasted too long he became impatient. "Well?"

"S-sorry sir, I was listening to the report from team one."

"What do they have to say?"

Once again the agent brought his hand to his ear so he could better hear the input he received there. "They have found the place of the initial altercation."

"Where?"

"Location D-5 sir."

Mansfield obviously didn't care about the co-ordinates it was given and simply repeated his question. "Where?"

"A small crop of trees to the south-west." Oh there, Riley immediately recognized the place they were talking about and he too was now suddenly very impressed by this Kirika. Aside from those trees there was no cover around there. Unless she'd managed to hide in a ditch he had barely fitted in as a child. Oh the memories of those days. Had the situation been different thinking of the times he tried to climb those trees would have brought a smile to his face.

"Very well. It took her long enough."

Indeed, it had taken the woman a long time to reach them, but at least she was coming. And no matter how low he'd estimated the chance of ever feeling like that, he was happy for it.

Mansfield however obviously didn't feel any danger as he sat down again in the chair facing Riley, and put his feet on the table. The table that his parents had put in this room after he'd accidentally ruined it ten years ago. "Don't you agree with me, captain?"

Riley only looked at the man in surprise; obviously he'd missed part of the conversation.

"She's good, isn't she?"

As there was no reason for him not to agree with that statement he continued glaring at the agent desecrating his parents' home. How dare that man do this? How dare he do this to the place his parents had worked so hard to build up? How dare he… No, suddenly he reeled back into his seat. He couldn't think about that now, that was simply too much to handle right now.

"I see that you agree with me, well I can't say that I'd expected anything else from you." Ignoring Riley again, Mansfield turned back to his men. "How long will it take her to reach the second line?"

"That depends sir."

A heavy sigh was heard then, and it was obvious to even an outsider like Riley that the men didn't like that sound. If the way they stiffened was any indication, he wasn't the only one who hated the man. "Do you get paid for making smart comments?"

"Well sir, actually," the only female agent in the room started to say.

"No you don't. You get paid to make informed comments. Ones where you don't need to act as if you're all high and mighty! Now give me your best damn shot at when she'll be here!" Wow, now that was a sudden outburst.

"Yes sir!" The agent shouted, nearly jumping to her feet. "Based on her sense of tactics, and need for safety I expect that she won't be here until about half an hour from now."

"Right. And knowing how good you are at these estimates I have a feeling that it won't be more than fifteen minutes before she's standing at the front door. Brooks," Mansfield barked before turning to the communication specialist, "any updates from the remaining team?"

Remaining team? Riley wondered, weren't there two left? Or had she actually managed to take out a second? "No sir, they report being in pursuit of the target, but it seems like she's moving away from the farm."

"Away? Well, well." Mansfield had a thoughtful look on his face while he considered this information. "It seems you might be right after all Bennings. How good for you."

"Thank you sir." The woman answered in a resigned tone, confirming Riley's suspicion that the agent knew she was next in line to be sacrificed to the Hunter. What was it that kept these people from rebelling?

"Sir," came the suddenly excited voice from Brooks, "team three has her in sight, and is engaging."

"Excellent news, agent. Now tell-" Mansfield was cut off by the muffled sound of an explosion. "What the hell was that?"

Brooks was already holding his ear again, a habit Riley really started to dislike. "Team three has encountered some kind of booby-trap consisting of powerful explosives. Casualties were heavy. Only one survivor reporting in, and he doesn't expect to live much longer." Right, Riley thought with a mental snort. There was no way that anybody would report an event like that in the tone or words that Brooks used here. Obviously some major editing had taken place in his choice of words.

"What's his problem? That's the sound of defeat, you aren't dead until your body has been placed six feet under. Tell him to continue his mission." And that was obviously the reason for the editing. Riley almost felt sorry for the agents that had to work under a complete and utter bastard like that, and it also made him wonder why they didn't engineer an 'accident'. Or simply blow his brains out for that matter.

Meanwhile the expression on the agent's face started to show the impact of the reports he was receiving. Although Riley doubted the messages could in all fairness be called reports. "I don't think he'll be able to do that sir. He only barely survived, and he's now saying that the Hunter is coming for him."

"Then tell him to shoot her, do I have to think of everything myself?"

"He's incapable of doing that sir. But, oh fuck." The sudden curse came loud and even Riley had regained interest in the situation as Brooks broke protocol and revealed the agent's name. "Haden reports she's wearing one of our radios sir."

Once again it was only the situation that kept Riley from displaying any emotion, otherwise he would have undoubtedly burst out in laughter at the look on Mansfield's face when he heard that. While it was strange that the agent reported that she had a radio—shouldn't he be trying to save his life? There were other questions as well.

Riley had no idea how or when the Hunter had taken the radio, but it was obviously before the team reached trap she'd led them into. How she got it wasn't the most important thing though, that position was held by the fact that she actually had been able to listen in on all the reports being made.

To be fair, the agents had done their best to prevent her from listening in by not only using an encrypted channel, but also locking the radios themselves. But by the terrified looks on their faces, nobody had predicted she might take a radio for which the code had already been entered. Not that he was going to complain about it though, in fact he hoped she'd use the information she'd just acquired to kill each and every one of them.

"Switch to the backup channel and tell everybody to go to plan Omega. And you start packing up your stuff, we can deal with your incompetence later. She knows about the cameras now, so we've lost that advantage as well, for the moment at least. Once we've relocated you can provide the survivors with more information."

Sure, Riley thought bitterly, as if Mansfield was planning on letting the field agents live. Most of the people around him in this makeshift command center were probably indispensable to the man, but the rest were about to be sacrificed.

"Ah captain," Mansfield suddenly turned his attention back to him, "aren't you happy that you're about to become a true hero? I can already foresee so many medals in your future; it's simply amazing. Riley Finn, son, husband, soldier, hero. Don't you think that will make a great headline? Just imagine it."

Oh yes, that would sound really great, Riley thought bitterly, directing his attention away from the smirking man and back to the chair next to his. For the past couple of hours he'd done his best to ignore the smells coming from there, but he knew that was all in vain. With every breath he took he could smell the blood and other bodily fluids that had oozed from the body.

The body. How could he even think of her like that? But, he consoled himself, that was probably due to shock. It was still hard to believe what had happened. One minute the two of them had been happy with the agents that were setting up shop around the farm so they could try to catch the Hunter, and the next…

The next minute they had, for some inexplicable reason, put a gun against Sam's head, pulled the trigger, and chained him to a chair. The thought of that horrifying moment was enough for Riley to once again scream his defiance at Mansfield. Only to be muffled by the gag that was kept firmly in his mouth, by what felt like half a roll of duct-tape.

"Oh relax, captain. You're not seeing this the right way. This is a war, it might not be against another country, or even terrorism, but it's a war nonetheless. And in every war there are casualties. Tomorrow people will turn on the news and see an image of the brave captain who stopped this remorseless killer.

"They will be happy he managed to do so, as it makes them feel safer. And they will be even more happy that it was that captain who caused her death, as he was already so victimized by her. Having lost both his parents and wife to her deathly actions. Actions that even continued in his hometown where she killed a young widow and her two children. One of whom was only a little baby." Mansfield shook his head before he continued his monologue.

"However, there is one little thing that needs to be done to complete the story of the brave little soldier. You see, while people love heroes, there is one thing that they love even more. And that's a dead hero." The moment he finished those words, Mansfield suddenly opened up Riley's stomach with a knife.

At first he didn't feel any pain as the cold knife dug into his body, but the shock wore of quickly and he screamed as loud as he could through the gag. Instead of leaving it at that however, Mansfield started to twist the knife, hurting him even more and doing irreparable damage to his body. And then, in order to speed up his approaching death, the bastard pulled out the knife and thrust it in Riley's chest, piercing his right lung and effectively silencing him.

Pulling the knife out, the man sniffed it as if he was savoring the smell of the blood. Luckily that moment passed quickly, or so Riley thought. Because once he was no longer focusing on his shiny knife Mansfield dipped his fingers into the excruciatingly painful wound in his stomach. The pain once again increased, and was starting to become too much. He didn't pass out though, he wouldn't give the man that satisfaction. Dimly, Riley wondered why none of the other agents even opened their mouth to stop Mansfield.

But like their boss, all of them had their backs turned to him at the moment. Unlike Mansfield though, they weren't writing anything on the table. Writing something with blood, his blood, and to make matters worse the bastard even needed a refill. Once Mansfield was done, he wiped his fingers on Sam's jacket and grinned at Riley. "Just in case she survives. Now then. Bennings, I want you to stay here and release one of the captain's arms. Once he's no longer able to effectively use them, naturally. Brooks, Peters, McAndrews, you three come with me. It's time we left this hellhole."

Not bothering to look around anymore, he walked out of the room and in the direction of the stairs. The other three didn't follow him immediately, but regarded their soon-to-be-sacrificed comrade first. "I'm sorry Alice," one of them started but no matter how much Riley tried, he couldn't follow the conversation. The wound was starting to take its toll and he could no longer stave off the encroaching unconsciousness.

He thought he could hear her say she forgave them, but any reply they might have made was missed completely. His head was starting to sag, and he was desperately trying to make his peace with the world, when suddenly he was once again awoken by even more pain.

Another pair of fingers had appeared in the wound to his stomach in order to collect some blood for writing Wide-eyed he looked at the agent that was now writing a second word to the table. It was only when she turned around that he could see what she wrote down, and he couldn't agree more with the word written down there. The agent only shrugged when she noticed his look. "Like the man said, she might actually survive."

X.X.X

Standing with her back against the wall, Dawn took deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She was standing next to the back door, but without current information on the defenses that she would encounter on the other side, she didn't feel like taking any chances. It was a shame that she'd been so sloppy with the agent who'd survived her little surprise. If she'd simply shot him from a distance he wouldn't have been able to tell his colleagues about the radio she'd taken.

Taking the radio hadn't even been something she'd thought about, until she was holding it in her hands. It came from the second patrol that she'd killed, the patrol that had arrived mere moments after she'd watched the last agent of the first team die. And despite the fact that she could use that agent's M-16, that fight hadn't been any easier than the first.

Even her wounded arm hadn't stopped her from taking the powerful weapon and turn it on the newly arrived team. Once again the silence was broken by the sound of bullets being fired, and men dying, as she tore through them with the weapon of their colleague. Like she'd noticed earlier, at such a short range their armor was incapable of stopping the bullets and the ones that weren't fast enough to move paid the price for their overconfidence.

They never stood a chance. But as always seemed to be the case, there just had to be one opponent among them who was good enough to stand against her in single combat. And that was the one to survive. How could it be any different? The difference between them was large enough though that she didn't need a lot of time to finish him. And once that group had been completely wiped out, the next was almost upon her and she decided to do it a bit differently this time around.

Before she'd attacked the first group, and after deciding on the spot where she'd do so, Dawn had gone back a couple of hundred meters in order to prepare a surprise. And this time around she had enough time to lure them after her. Yes, she might have been able to defeat them like she had the other teams, but why take the chance? Everybody already knew that she had arrived, the radio she'd taken confirmed that, so why shouldn't she let the C4 handle these people?

And now, an indeterminable time later, she had finished killing everybody who wasn't inside the house. The house where she knew her target could be found. Unless they'd left. A short shake of her head was the unspoken response to that idea. They were still here, this boss of theirs was far too overconfident, and wouldn't have thought of retreating until it was too late. That didn't mean she should wait any longer though. So, turning towards the door, Dawn carefully eased it open.

A first glance into the kitchen the door led to showed no sign of any agents. With her silenced gun in leading the way, Dawn stepped inside and quickly turned to check behind the door. Seeing nothing there, she looked around for possible exits, but noticed only the half-open door leading to the hallway behind.

With no place for anyone to hide, she believed the kitchen secure, and moved forward. Once again a door was carefully eased open, only to uncover an empty hallway and a complete lack of any resistance. Where were they? Shouldn't this entrance be covered as well? They hadn't left had they? The possibility of success for this mission was suddenly becoming slimmer, as she realized that perhaps they hadn't been as overconfident as she'd thought.

Nowhere in the house could she hear sounds indicating that she wasn't completely alone, but she kept resisting the overwhelming urge to turn around. Even if there wasn't anyone here, there might still be clues laying around. So, she went on until she encountered the stairs leading to the upper floors.

The moment she spotted the the bottom steps, Dawn froze and moved closer to the wall. Silently hugging the wall, she moved forward until she had a better view, without exposing herself to enemy fire. But as she had half feared, there was nobody taking advantage of the spot, leaving her even more convinced that she was alone in the house.

There was a good possibility that she'd find information up there, should she try to find it now? No, she shook her head in denial, the first order of business was to secure the ground floor. Even if she didn't think there was anybody here, she couldn't take the risk that she'd missed someone.

Quickly she set out for the living room, the most likely command post for the team hunting her. The door leading there wasn't even partly closed, and even from a distance it was obvious that the room hadn't been used for that purpose. Maybe the agents had never even been in the house, had their leader directed them from elsewhere.

Alright, so they were smarter than she thought they were. Damn. Still, there might be something useful in the house, so she should look around for clues. Stepping into the room to do just that, Dawn was surprised by the creaking sound of a door behind her. Quickly she turned around, only now noticing the small door hidden beneath the stairs, but it was already too late. The punishment for her lack of attention to her surroundings was coming towards her with blinding speed.

The impact of the bullet pushed her back, and for a moment she could only be thankful that it hadn't been a burst from an M-16, but she immediately focused on more important matters. The bullet had hit her left shoulder and the mere thought of how close to death she'd just come triggered an instinctive reaction.

While allowing herself to fall backwards, offering a smaller target for the shots that came after that first one, Dawn aimed her own gun and returned fire. Even before her body touched the ground, and her enemy had managed to fire more than an additional two shots, she had succeeded in killing him. She could see the single round mark she'd created in his forehead before her attention was drawn to the pain in her shoulder as it impacted with the floor.

Only her training, and unwillingness to show any weakness, kept Dawn from screaming out loud, but even so she couldn't keep completely silent. Trying to ignore the agony, but with tears in her eyes, she realized how lucky she'd been to survive this mistake of hers.

Had the bullet hit her any lower it would have pierced the lung located there, or even her heart. Both wounds that might have killed her if she wasn't treated fast enough. Treatment that she would never be able to find here. Her eyes flew open as she suddenly realized something. These people didn't work alone, where was this guy's partner?

Moving to a sitting position she put the gun in her left hand, while her right took hold of the ruined shoulder in an attempt to discover the amount of damage inflicted on it. No! Safety first, treatment later. Letting go of the wound she wobbly raised herself to her feet and tried to discover if there was anyone else on this floor. There weren't many rooms left to check though, and she came to believe that the man who shot her had been the only one around. Which made sense as anyone else would have rushed to his aid after hearing that shot.

That didn't mean there wouldn't be anyone waiting for her once she got back to the stairs, but for now she was safe. Taking a clean sheet from a closet she bound her wound tightly. It would stop the bleeding and allow her to continue on, but once she was away from here she would need to see to it that she got professional help.

Reloading her gun, she walked back to the stairs and repeating her earlier actions, she looked up, only to spot a single woman awkwardly holding a gun. From the way she was revealing her position it was obvious that whoever this woman was, she probably was even worse at hiding than at shooting. Even so, Dawn had had enough of taking chances for one night.

Looking at the woman's clothes she determined that this was one of the agents hunting her, so there was no point in underestimating her. The woman did have a good view of the room, but wasn't experienced enough to use that effectively. This could be a trap of course. Who knew, there might be someone else waiting for her to take the bait presented by this golden opportunity?

Even if that was the case, Dawn realized that she'd never be able to go upstairs if she didn't take the woman out. So she did.

Had she been able to hear the bullet being fired, the agent still wouldn't have stood a chance as the carefully aimed shot went through her brain. The impact threw her against the wall she was next to, and splattered blood all over it, but Dawn was only focused on the possibility of another agent suddenly showing up.

When after several minutes the lack of any movement seemed to indicate she was safe, Dawn took her first steps up the stairs. Having learned her lesson earlier, and with her wounds as constant reminders, she moved slowly. Once again slow progress was far better than taking yet another useless risk. An attitude she kept throughout the rest of her excursion.

Advancing through the hallway she entered every room she encountered as if it was full of people trying to kill her. But all of them were devoid of anything human, almost making her believe she was alone again, until she stood outside the door at the end of the hallway.

"Bennings reporting in, all clear here," came a female voice from inside. They were still reporting to each other, but unfortunately she couldn't hear the response. A code had been demanded when she'd tried switching to another channel on the radio she'd taken. And none of the other agents she'd encountered had their radios unlocked.

None of that mattered though. The only thing that mattered right now was that there was somebody inside this room. But instead of immediately jumping into the room, Dawn waited until the woman inside spoke again. Once she knew how long the wait between the reports was, she could attack. Just like she'd done with the patrols.

"Bennings here, all clear." Great, the foolish woman thought she was cute by rhyming. Let's see what she'd think of dying then. With a look of determination on her face, Dawn kicked the door open in a move that was quick, brutal, and meant to surprise everyone inside the room.

Except… There wasn't anyone in the room, alive that is. It didn't take Dawn long to spot the corpses of her target and his wife, but there was no sign of anyone else in the room. But where had the sound come from then? Looking around in sudden confusion it was only when she noticed the laptop sitting on the table that she had a suspicion about the origin of the voice.

Carefully walking into the room she tried to spot any traps; the sound of voices coming from the room had her convinced the door was safe, but even that had become questionable. But so far the rest of the room see-. There, were those motion sensors? Freezing her movement, Dawn looked for anything they might be attached to. No wires, great that meant they sent radio signals.

Not that there were all that many possibilities, she was standing in the middle of a deadly trap. Explosives, this place was rigged with explosives. She should leave, now! Despite these feelings however, she looked the sensors over again. They were aimed at the door. Aimed in such a way that they should have triggered the explosion when she kicked it open.

No way. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was obvious this hadn't been luck. Yes, it was a factor, but there was no way she could have been lucky enough that the sensors could have failed to trigger the explosives. Somebody had helped her. Feeling she was safe for now, Dawn walked over to the laptop in order to examine what other things had been done to help her.

Someone had not only put the various cameras on a loop, some of which, she was ashamed to admit, she hadn't even spotted, but had also for some reason done something that would send a status report every couple of minutes. And it was unlikely those reports differed much, Dawn didn't doubt the fact that they would all say that she hadn't arrived yet. But why? It didn't make any sense, and wouldn't the bosses have discovered something when they'd contacted the man under the stairs?

But no, now that she thought about it, Dawn realized that the agent didn't have a radio. Which only served to confuse the situation even more. Just like with the night vision, why weren't these people equipped the way they ought to be? In fact, before seeing this setup she had come to believe they hadn't used any radios inside the house. Had the woman had one? She hadn't looked for it, and couldn't remember if she had. But that didn't change the facts she was facing now. Why would someone help her? Why would they go against their orders?

Dawn had no intention to stop thinking about a possible reason, but while she did that she might as well check out the bodies. And wow, that was brutal. Sam had been executed from behind, probably before she'd even noticed anything was wrong, but the target…

He was chained to the chair he was sitting in, and had been gutted there. Why had they gutted him? Wouldn't it make more sense to kill him quickly? Just in case she'd come sooner than they'd expect? And what was with the writing on the table?

"Committee. Mansfield," she whispered the words. They were obviously written by two different people, neither of whom was the target. If they'd wanted her to believe that the target had written it they should have untied the correct hand.

This situation just kept getting stranger and stranger. Before she had a chance to think of a possible reason for all this though, the radio next to the laptop crackled and a voice spoke through it. "Bennings? Report in."

"Bennings, no sign of her yet." Nice, the program was obviously meant to respond to voices as well. Good thing her whisper had been too quiet to be picked up.

"We think there's something wrong with the cameras. The Hunter should have arrived by now, could you check them out?"

"This is Bennings, all clear." Oh, oh. They were about to find out something was wrong; obviously the program couldn't handle a real conversation.

"Bennings? This is Mansfield, I order you to answer the question, you useless woman." This time the voice belonged to someone else and part of the mystery was solved. This Bennings obviously didn't appreciate being sacrificed and had therefore set all of this up. Why she'd gone this far was still a big mystery, but at least she knew who'd written one of the words on the table, and why she'd done that.

"Nothing here, Bennings out."

But this Mansfield sounded as if there was something else. Her eyes went wide when she suddenly realized what that something else was. The explosives were remotely detonated, and it was likely there was some sort of backup for it.

Not wasting another moment, Dawn started running toward the windows as fast as she could, while over a mile away Mansfield was about to push a button.

X.X.X

_**Soldier Hunter killed by target!**_

_**Heroic captain takes revenge for massacre in small Iowa town.**_

_Des Moines, Iowa_

_The town of Greensville, Iowa was shaken up last Tuesday by a visit of the Soldier Hunter. Unlike before however, the killer no longer constrained herself to killing members of the military. During her visit to this normally quiet town it was not only her assumed target that received her attention._

_Aside from her target, the man's wife and parents have also been found dead, as well as a family of three and the clerk at the local motel._

_The family, widowed Miranda Hutchkins (27), her son Brad (5), and daughter Mary (6 months), had been at home when the Hunter entered their house and brutally shot them. Investigators assume this was done to have a base of operations after she had killed clerk Rick Jackson (21) earlier in the day, forcing her to leave her room at the motel._

_The day before these brutal murders, the Hunter had already hunted down her target's parents, Andrew (53) and Trudy Finn (49), killing them while they were spending the night in a neighboring town. During the night she then went after her target who was spending his leave at his parents' house. Together with his wife Samantha (24), Riley Finn (24) was most likely surprised when they were visited by the Hunter, but rallied himself magnificently._

_Instead of simply giving up when faced with this boogieman of all military personnel, he fought her to a standstill until in the end he met his match. But even while gutted, the soldier did not simply give up, opting instead to trigger a powerful explosion that did not only take his own life, but that of his attacker as well._

_Statements from both the Greensville sheriff and a spokeswoman of the FBI have provided additional information about the Hunter that has thus far been kept secret. Among this information is the long suspected, but never confirmed, fact that the Hunter was in fact a woman. _

_Continued on page two. See also The Hunter's victims, article on page three._

_Due to these events, Senator Wingfield has renewed his proposal to curb violence on television and in video games. Details on this proposal can be found on page sixteen._

* * *

Thanks to everybody for their reviews so far. 


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_June 13, 2021_

"Well, that was about as fun as… I don't know," Asha mused as they were leaving the mansion where they had spent far too much time, "having a tooth pulled maybe?"

Logan wasn't paying all that much attention to her comments though, he was still shocked by the revelation he'd just had. How could that woman have found out his biggest secret? She had never met him, and most people who did know him had never figured out that he was Eyes Only. But that was what she had claimed, wasn't it?

It could be taken in a different way of course, but it was too much of a coincidence for his tastes. And than there was the exoskeleton as well, how could she have known about that? Most of the guests at the party didn't have a clue as to why he had suddenly been able to walk again, but she had known. She had known everything about him, and he didn't know anything about her.

"Hello, Earth to Logan. Come in Logan."

This time the words actually managed to penetrate his mind and he turned back to Asha. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"Nothing important," she sighed, "what is it that's got you so bothered. That Summers woman?"

"Yes, I can't shake the feeling that there's something off about her."

"Is it about whatever it was that she told you?"

Logan ignored the thinly-veiled request for information and instead focused on the question itself. "Partly, but there is more to it. She knows too much about what's going on, and did you see her walk?"

"Sorry, but I usually pay more attention to how men walk, not women." But he hadn't really waited for her to answer the question, and had already started formulating what he was going to say next.

"She didn't walk like the rest of those people. It's strange, I've spent my entire life among them, but I never really noticed the way they walk before."

A sigh came from Asha then, before she answered. "Okay, I'll bite. What did you notice about their walk?"

"It's strange," Logan mused again, while slowly shaking his head in wonderment, "each and every one of them walked in such a way that they would get noticed immediately. Both the men and women tried to get everyone's attention focused on them. But Summers… she was completely different, I hadn't noticed her until shortly before I talked to her, but she must've been at the party the entire time. Did you see her before she spoke to us?"

This earned a thoughtful frown from his companion, before she had to concede that she too hadn't really noticed the brunette woman. "But that doesn't mean anything, I was trying to get information from people and concentrated on those I was talking with. Or she could simply have been hiding herself."

"That's my point. People like her don't hide. I don't know all that much about her, but if my information is right, she owns several corporations. You can't achieve that kind of success in business if you hide from people. If you don't get noticed."

"So you're saying what exactly?"

"I don't think Dawn Summers is exactly what she seems to be. I think there's more to her than we know."

Turning a corner they continued their trek home, each immersed in their own thoughts. The silence remained for an entire block, until Asha spoke. "So, what do you plan to do? Inform Eyes Only?"

Right, inform Eyes Only. It really was a bit ridiculous that some total stranger knew who he was, while his closest associates didn't have a clue. "Yeah, I'll tell him and we'll probably do some research into Dawn Summers. There has to be something that can tell us one way or the other."

"Can tell us what?" Asha asked him, not following his reasoning.

"There is one thing that I do know about Summers, and when you combine that fact with the current situation it creates some questions."

"Logan, just tell me alright. Those people in there," she pointed behind her at in the direction of the mansion they had just left, "have already given me a headache. I'd really like it if you didn't try to make it worse, alright?"

Logan sighed, it was so annoying when he had to explain something that was so obvious. But he had to admit that she didn't exactly have the same information he had, so he couldn't really blame her for asking either. "Okay, it's actually very simple. Let's face the facts. Noir has been hired to kill Max. Noir is an assassin who is based in France. White called a number there to hire her."

"Yes, but that doesn't exactly tell me much about what Summers has to do with anything."

"I'm getting there. Like I said, it's all very simple. Summers too, is from France. In fact she has lived there for a long time, and I have a feeling that she's been living there since Noir left the States. And now she has suddenly turned up at the same time as Noir. Call me crazy if you like, but I really believe there's a connection right there."

Asha slowly nodded her head while thinking this over, and once again there were several minutes of silence during which each went over their own thoughts. "So, you're pretty sure that she is Noir."

"Either that, or she is in some way connected to her. But yes, I do believe that Dawn Summers is actually Noir."

"You do realize that it doesn't make sense right."

Doesn't make sense? It made perfect sense. "What do you mean?"

"If she's so rich, why would she continue taking so many chances to kill people? And aside from that, she must have friends among the elite, but from what you've told me before, Noir never refuses a contract."

"No, actually she does refuse contracts, it's only that once she's accepted one she doesn't go back on it."

Asha seemed to accept that, but still wouldn't give up trying to pick holes in his theory. "Alright, so she could refuse to accept missions where she'd have to kill her friends, but that still doesn't explain the whole money thing. Let alone why she'd single you out."

"Single me out?" What was she talking about?

"You know, the whole invitation thing?" Oh, that. But that actually reinforced his belief of her being Noir. If she really knew that he was Eyes Only she would know he was closely connected to the transgenics. Although, if he was honest about it, that didn't make a lot of sense either. Why give him a warning? That didn't seem to fit Noir's usual pattern.

"I… I don't know actually. That is rather strange, although it might just be to confuse me?" That last part came out more like a question than a statement, and he wasn't really happy about the doubt he could hear in his voice.

"Confuse you? Don't take this wrong Logan, but don't you think that's a bit too self-centered? I mean, if she wants to confuse someone, it should be Max. Not someone whose connection to the transgenics is hidden."

But that too actually made sense if she knew about him being Eyes Only. The only thing he couldn't explain away was the money thing. Why would anyone with that sort of money risk her life to kill people? On the other hand, if Noir's fees were even half of what the rumors said they were, she would have a lot of money regardless of what she did during the day. Expelling a loud breath he had to concede defeat. He was unlikely to convince Asha, and if his arguments couldn't even sway her, he wouldn't have the ghost of a chance when it came to Max.

"Alright, I'm still convinced that she has something to do with Noir. Maybe Summers isn't the assassin herself, but she has a connection to her. I can feel it. However," he spoke, raising his finger to stop Asha from interrupting, "I will first try to get more information before I'll go anywhere with my suspicions. Only once I've got more proof will I inform anyone else."

"Including Eyes Only?" Looking to his side, he noticed the raised eyebrow and decided to give her what she expected.

"No, I'll tell Eyes Only. His resources will be needed to uncover the information I need." By then they had reached a checkpoint, and his attention needed to be on the cop demanding to know what their business was at this time of night.

X.X.X

"So, why did you want to talk to him?" Samantha asked her guest.

"I wanted to play with his head."

Okay, that didn't make a lot of sense. Although, if you thought about what she'd done to Victor… "You wanted to play with his head."

"Yes, I like doing that. Don't tell me you've never noticed that before." The guileless expression on Dawn's face proved that she did indeed like toying with people. But Samantha had to admit that she hadn't had all that many chances to see her do so before this visit.

"Alright, but why him? You hardly know the man. In fact, I don't think you've even met him before tonight."

"True. I've never met him before, but that doesn't mean I don't know him. In fact, I've known about him since before the Pulse."

Before the Pulse? What? Was the impossible going to happen? Was Dawn actually going to speak about her past before her arrival in France? "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember that time when this Noir you mentioned earlier got so much attention from the media?"

Did she remember that? Was there a moment she didn't? But instead of saying that she answered cautiously. "I think so yes, wasn't that somewhere around 2006 or 2007?"

"Something like that. It was when she first began to make herself known, when she first started hunting the military."

"Oh yeah, I remember that. According to the FBI she had actually been active before that, otherwise they would have thought she was a copycat from that psycho."

This time Dawn frowned in thought. "Psycho? What psycho?"

If that sort of behavior hadn't been frowned upon by her family and friends, Samantha would have rolled her eyes at the obvious obtuse behavior of her friend. "You know who I'm talking about. The Soldier Hunter."

"Oh, her."

"Yeah her," Samantha almost whispered that last word as something came to her. "Kinda weird don't you think?"

"What?"

"That the Soldier Hunter was a woman too. I mean, that makes two of them marked as public enemy number one in only a couple of years."

"Noir was never considered so."

"Of course she was. Everybody knew her, the super assassin that named herself after some cartoon."

Instead of agreeing with her statement, Dawn shook her head. "Everybody knew her alright, but she wasn't important enough to rate that high. Most of her targets were underworld figures, and no matter what they might say the government didn't mind that they were dying."

This time she couldn't resist rolling her eyes in exasperation. Dawn was such a smart woman, but it was moments like these that she seemed so gullible, or innocent maybe. "Oh god, you're not telling me that you actually believe all those conspiracy things do you? The ones that talk about Roswell, Area 51, shadow governments, Noir not being hunted, etcetera, etcetera."

"Or the ones about the secret facility where they mixed human and animal DNA?"

"Yeah," realization hit Samantha at the same moment she wanted to agree with Dawn, "alright, so one of them was actually true. That doesn't mean the rest is as well. I mean, there was an entire team dedicated to hunting Noir, do you think they let her go or something?"

"Or something, yeah."

"Oh come on, and why would they do that?"

Dawn didn't seem moved by her words, and simply looked at her with those wide innocent eyes. "Because she was cleaning up their mess."

"Because she was cleaning up their mess. What? Did they hire her too?" Even as she said it, Samantha noticed Dawn's eyes change a bit, as if she was staring into the past. Probably trying to remember the contents of whatever conspiracy site she'd gotten this information.

"They tried, but she always refused." The words were whispered, and for a moment she thought she heard some pain in them, but that idea passed quickly. "She would never believe it wasn't a trap."

"Okay, whatever you want. But if she wasn't hired, why did they think she was helping them?"

"Because she cleaned up the mess they'd left behind in Sunnydale."

Okay, that was it. Now she was really going too far with all the conspiracy nonsense. "Dawn, there was nothing in Sunnydale. It was a terrorist attack gone wrong, or maybe even something else that required the military to bomb it. But listen to me." And saying so she grabbed Dawn's face in her hands, before clearly punctuating the words she wanted to imprint on her friend's mind. "There. Was. No. Secret. Facility. In. Sunnydale."

"Alright, if you don't want to talk about I won't mention it anymore." A sigh of frustration came from Dawn as she said that, but Samantha knew that if her friend said something like that she'd keep her word. "But that doesn't mean they tried to kill Noir."

Time to halt this conversation, before even worse memories came back. It was bad enough that she had already been reminded of finding her father's mutilated corpse after Noir had been done with him. "Noir was evil Dawn. Still is actually, and I don't think there's anything you can say that would convince me not to kill her if I ever met her." Oh god, she was starting to cry. Quickly she wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands before it really started. She could deal with this, in three months time it would be fourteen years ago so there was no need for her to fall to pieces again.

It was Dawn though who looked as if she'd been struck. A horrified expression adorning her face, making her look more like the thirty-five years she actually was. "What have I done?"

The whispered comment didn't make a lot of sense, until Samantha felt the tear that had managed to find its way to her chin. "You haven't done anything. It's just that…" She trailed off, remembering the days she grieved so much. That time when she as a fifteen year old girl had been forced to support her mother.

A gentle caress on her face from the other woman as she wiped the solitary tear away brought her out of her reverie. "Who was it?"

"My father. That bitch killed my father."

"I'm so sorry," once again it came as a barely audible whisper, but the pain that was evident in the voice made her feel better.

"Nothing you could do about it. But do you see? That's why I don't believe the thing about Sunnydale. Daddy would never have been involved with something like that."

"Of course he wouldn't, come on. Let's go get you cleaned up."

Samantha didn't really understand the sorrowful expression on her friend's face, but the plan of cleaning herself up was a good one. She was hosting this party, she was the last one who should be showing any weak emotions like this. But even so her reply was barely whispered. "Okay."

X.X.X

While the party had ended almost an hour before, for Dawn the night was far from over. The time for actual action was approaching fast, and she loved it. In a way she might be called an adrenaline-junkie, but that wouldn't be wholly accurate. Yes, she loved the feeling of the adrenaline coursing through her body, but that wasn't the most important thing. It was the test.

The test to see if she was still as good as she believed herself to be. The test that showed her how much the average opponent had improved. And afterwards the inevitable feeling of happiness as she realized that her opponents hadn't improved nearly enough.

Walking into the dark bedroom that had been assigned to her, she looked for a moment at the bed that was its centerpiece. From what little she had tried it, she knew that it would be a very comfortable place to sleep in, but she also doubted she'd actually get the chance to do so. Kicking off the high heels she was still wearing Dawn wondered about her life. The life that allowed her to stay in places like this, but not let her actually use the facilities.

The night before had been spent in the gym, trying to forget the memories that the encounter with Victor had awoken. Samantha might believe she had been sleeping in, but the fact was that the last time she slept had been the night before she stepped on the plane that brought her here. Well, at least staying awake was a good way to get over your jet lag.

With a slight smirk on her face, Dawn dropped the beautiful gown she was wearing. After all these years she had finally learned to appreciate the beauty that was inherent in this kind of clothing. Sure, it wasn't useful for fighting, or even most other types of missions, but it had its uses. As did the silk underwear that was all she was that covered her body right now. The same color of red as the gown itself had been, the skimpy pieces of fabric were useless when it came to staying warm.

But that didn't prevent her from enjoying the way they almost seemed to caress her body with every step she took. Sighing in regret, Dawn moved her hands behind her, so that she could undo the bra, before slipping the panties down her legs. Closing her eyes made her think it was done by the knowledgeable hands of a lover, maybe even Jacob or Samantha. That thought suddenly scared her though, and she stilled her movement, letting the piece of fabric simply fall to the floor. It was bad enough that she had killed the woman's father, there was no need to have sick fantasies about her as well. Sure, she looked good and with all the training she regularly did she would probably be hard to exhaust.

But in this case it was wrong. Dawn knew what her problem was though. It had been too long since she'd shared a bed with someone, too many months since she'd been able to completely let go. Closing her eyes for a moment she tried to calm her racing heart. Oh god, was she horny.

Why had she waited so long? Especially as it was obviously bad enough that she started lusting after friends. That the particular friend happened to be a woman didn't really matter to her. It was the act of sex that was important to her, not the partner.

Tearing her thoughts away from that path—it could wait until after she'd accomplished her mission—Dawn refocused on the here and now. The room was still dark, but she didn't really need the light anyway. She could see everything she needed to see, and she was incapable of dropping her guard enough not to be aware of the target she'd make if the light was turned on. A sniper wouldn't need any fancy equipment if her profile was displayed so prominently against the satin curtains that covered the window.

But she did want to feel the night air, and as nobody could see inside anyway—as if she actually cared whether someone saw her naked—she might as well open the window. Walking towards it she opened the curtains, but before doing anything else was captivated by the sight of the night sky. It was so beautiful, and it was so much more visible here in present day Seattle than it was in Paris. Of course, compared to the Manor there was still an awful lot of light pollution, but at least she could see the sky here.

It did remind her of another time she watched this sky. A time when she had been lying on the ground, gravely injured, outside a house that had exploded moments before. The memories of that night still occasionally haunted her dreams; the desperate attempt to get away before anyone came to check on her, and the long months of recovery that followed it.

But unlike then, tonight the sky contained a full moon. And while the light of that celestial body spilled over her, exposing her to the world, she didn't try to hide from it. The full moon brought better, cherished, memories as it always reminded her of Chloe. Could she have actually planned it that way? It seemed strange for her to think of the other sapling as someone who could plan that far ahead, but she had received a lot of the same training Kirika had. No matter how impulsive the girl might have seemed at times, she too had been capable of planning a mission in cold blood. She just hadn't been able to control her own heart.

With yet another sigh, Dawn pulled the window open until the cool evening breeze was caressing her entire body, top to bottom. It felt good, and after the hot and crowded atmosphere of the party, not to mention her mind, it was exactly what she needed to wake up. Oh yes, closing her eyes she once again tried to think of something other than the upcoming mission, and preferably something that had to nothing to do with sex.

The dress, yes, why not think about the dress some more? The first time she had seen a dress intended only to enhance the wearers beauty had been when Buffy wore it during that fateful Halloween. And at that time she had scoffed at it, why would anyone want to wear something like that? Sure, she had liked to wear pretty clothes in an attempt to turn the boys' heads, but her, or rather her sister's, reputation had already ensured that was a useless mission anyway.

In the years after that her reputation at school had always been that of someone who didn't care about looks, and for once a high school reputation was actually accurate. But once she'd started to move in the circles of the elite, a place she'd never envisioned herself to be, it often was necessary for her to wear clothes like these. At first she had managed to make it bearable by thinking of it as part of a mission. At that time, her goals for the future hadn't been completely formed yet and she wanted to be able to use every asset she had.

And use those assets she did. It wasn't always necessary to kill someone to make them capitulate. Sometimes there were other ways to achieve victory, if you weren't too picky about using them. A smile creased the corners of her mouth then, as Dawn recalled some of those moments. They had been pleasurable, and had done their part in keeping her sane, but those memories sparked other thoughts as well and the smile disappeared again..

What would her mother have thought about her? It was just another form of the doubts she was having these days, but this one bothered her more than most of the others did. She had changed so much over the years, turning into someone that was both better and worse than the child she had been. And if her mother had been alive now, what would she have thought? Would she have been proud, or ashamed of what her daughter had done to survive?

Survive? Let's be honest here; most of what she had done wasn't for survival. Her actions had always been based on two precepts. Revenge and greed. She winced at that last word, while it was probably accurate she had spent far too much time with the politically correct to truly appreciate brutal honesty. Honesty was important though, and she really shouldn't forget about it.

But it didn't really matter right now. She had things to do, weapons to collect, and people to kill. Turning away from the view of the dark city, Dawn walked over to her suitcases and grabbed the only one that was still locked. Several locks and a location tracker ensured that it would never be stolen during her travels, and that nobody would ever examine its contents.

She knew that the suitcase hadn't been designed to be opened in a hurry, but even so it always surprised her exactly how long it took until she finally heard the final click that indicated it was open. And even then she had to wait for the internal defenses to become inactive. All in all, it took about a minute before she could access its contents.

The lining of the lid was filled with various knives, and other bladed weapons, while in the sides there were a number of disposable cell phones. Each phone would be used only once before she'd throw it away, but they were all of a high quality.

But most of the suitcase was filled with that one thing most people filled them with. Clothes. Not the beautiful clothes she wore to parties, nor even the slightly less formal wear that was used for conducting her other business. Instead these were the kind of clothes that came only in one color. Black, the color of death. Her color.

Taking what she needed out of the suitcase, she ran her fingers over the fabric. Like everything she wore, these clothes were custom made, and while they might not be the latest creation of whoever the current master of fashion was, they were the most expensive pieces of clothing she owned. The slightly stiff material fit her like a glove, and in the case of the gloves that was actually literally, but still allowed her a free range of movement.

There was a reason for the stiffness of the clothes though, a reason that was based on previous experiences. She wasn't bulletproof, but there was no reason not to wear clothes that would at least help her in that regard. Bullet wounds hurt, no matter where they hit or how much damage they did. Even wearing these reinforced clothes she would still feel each and every impact on her body. Using the latest body armor that was used by SWAT teams would have offered far more protection, but her style of fighting was based on speed and stealth.

Retracting her hand from where it was till touching the clothes, Dawn once again closed the suitcase and put it back where it belonged. Before returning to the bed however, she first walked over to the door and made sure it was locked. Having someone walk in while she was standing naked in the glorious moonlight was one thing, having someone walk in while she was dressing up for a mission was a completely different matter.

X.X.X

"Have you found anything?" Logan asked once the video link had been established. It had been over an hour since he called Sebastian, and he really hoped the man would have found something by now. This wasn't really the man's field of expertise, but he did have more connections to Europe than Logan himself had..

As usual, the artificially created voice of his friend didn't give anything away by its tone. "I have contacted several people and asked them about Dawn Summers. Without giving away your suspicions it was difficult to get the information I required, but in the end I came across several articles that were useful."

"And?" Logan asked, trying to contain his anxiety. He was certain that this was the break he'd been waiting for. The moment Sebastian would supply the proof he'd be able to go to Max, and then to the police.

"The articles themselves weren't conclusive, but after talking to one of the authors I have come to the conclusion that it is impossible for Dawn Summers to be the assassin calling herself Noir."

What? That was impossible, and he told Sebastian that.

"No, the proof is there. I have not found anything that disproves a link between miss Summers and Noir, but she can not be the assassin."

"Why not? It all makes sense."

"The theory might be sound, but unless she can be in two places at the same time it is impossible."

"Two places at the same time? What do you mean?"

Not immediately answering him, the paraplegic first sent two articles to Logan, who began scanning their contents the moment they arrived. "As you can see, on January 14 this year, both Dawn Summers and Noir were in different locations."

"Yes, I can see that Summers was attending a stockholders meeting in Munich, while Noir executed a mission in Tel Aviv. But that just doesn't make sense. I'm certain that she is the assassin. Could she have made it there in time?"

"No, both the murder and the meeting took place at the same time."

Logan frowned at that. This really didn't make any sense, he had been so certain. It wasn't like he'd never made mistakes, but a mistake of this magnitude? No, that was far too unlikely. "Could it be a copycat? Someone else taking advantage of Noir's fame?"

"Unlikely, taking the name of an active assassin is never good for one's health. If this was someone other than the real Noir it would be known by now."

"Okay, you're right about that. The body of this copycat would have been found a long time ago. But what if it was someone hired by Summers to throw off all suspicions? I won't believe her innocence until I see more proof."

The silence that followed gave him the impression that Sebastian didn't like this, and when the other finally spoke that impression was justified. "Why do you wish to prove that Summers is Noir? All the evidence so far points the other way."

Why did he want to prove it so badly? Logan had to admit that he might come over a bit, well, anxious might be a good word for it. But he was so certain, there simply was no doubt in his mind that Summers was here to kill Max, and he simply couldn't let that happen. "I can't let her kill Max. She's in danger from this woman, and if I can stop her I'll do so."

"Are you sure that is that all there is to it?"

Of course? What else could there be? What other motive could there be? He wasn't about to question his own motives; he was doing the right thing, no doubt about it. "I'm sure."

"It doesn't have anything to do with the fact that Noir outsmarted you?"

That was not the right way to say something like that, and Logan felt his brow crease as he thought about it. "No, aside from the fact that she didn't actually outsmart me but instead left the country, that was a long time ago."

"But the fact that Summers knew more about you than you know about her could have triggered something."

What was this? Some kind of psychotherapy session? His motives were obvious and didn't have anything to do with revenge, or even with someone who was in a position to reveal his secret identity to the world. No, this was all simply to save Max, no other reason. "No Sebastian, the only reason I'm doing this is to remove a danger to humanity from the world."

"Is she a danger to humanity?"

"What?" What kind of question was that? How could a professional assassin not be a danger?

"If Noir truly is Summers than she is far more concerned about humanity's survival than most," Sebastian said, "I was not sure whether to give you this information, but there is an organization to which Summers has a link."

"Organization? What kind of organization?"

"It is a council, based in England, that calls itself the Watcher's Council. While the leaders might not always have the best ideas for humanity, their members do some excellent work."

"What kind of work?"

But Sebastian didn't seem inclined to answer that question, strange. His friend had never seemed so closed about something before. "There is another reason I don't believe Summers would want to kill the transgenics."

"Really?" Why was he only now coming with all this information instead of at the start of their conversation?

"A lot of the genetic research in Europe is done by her companies. It would be more likely for her to seek contact with Max for a way to live together peacefully. Contact with the transgenics might help her with her own research."

"Right, I'll think about it, okay?" Logan suddenly had enough of this conversation; all Sebastian was doing was to try to disprove his theory. That might be the scientific way of doing things, but he didn't have to like it. "I'll talk to you later, alright? Goodbye."

Closing the connection, Logan stood up to pace around the room. He'd gotten used to the smell of the paint that still hung around here, but for some reason it was getting to him right now. Opening the front door, he stepped outside for a moment to clear his head.

Sebastian might have tried to tell him that Summers couldn't possibly be the assassin, but he just couldn't believe it. It simply made too much sense. No, he needed another source of information, there had to be someone who could prove what he believed. Taking his cellphone, he dialed a number from memory and waited until someone would answer.

X.X.X

Oh yes, this felt so good. Silently crossing from one shadow to the next, Dawn approached the first checkpoint she'd have to pass. A checkpoint she had no intention of passing the legitimate way. She hadn't spent the entire day in this city for nothing. By now she had uncovered at least one easy way to cross from one part of the city into another, the only problem with this one was that it was the hardest.

Not exactly a surprise either with the amount of money that was located on this side of the big fence. But as always there were more ways to reach the perimeter than there were checkpoints. And in this case there was a fairly simple route, that while it would mean she'd have to cross an additional zone ensured she could go where she wanted to go. Wearing the weapons of her trade, or at least those she hadn't collected yet.

There was the garage she'd been looking for. The small building was connected to a taller house, which was connected to its neighbor, which was fairly close to the fence. Running towards the garage she waited until the last possible moment before placing her foot against the wall, use it to push off and, by grabbing the edge of the roof, swing herself up onto it.

Squatting on top of the roof, Dawn waited for a minute to see if someone had noticed her nearly silent actions, but when it was obvious that wasn't the case she continued on. There were beings on the earth who you couldn't hear when they walked, none of them human, but when she wanted it Dawn came as close as humanly possible. Nearly gliding over the roof of the house she made sure that the sleeping inhabitants never had the slightest inkling she was there.

Soon she had reached the second house, and with a jump to cross the small gap between them she landed on its roof. Once again her landing had been nearly inaudible, but she waited nonetheless. She wasn't really on a schedule, what she wanted would be waiting for her no matter what time she arrived, and could therefore take all the time she wanted.

In this house people weren't sleeping. In fact, the activity they were engaged in would ensure that there was no way that they'd actually notice her as long as she didn't fall into the bedroom. Fine by her, people should have fun and if it made her job easier, so be it.

Completely dressed in her black outfit Dawn crouched while examining the fence she needed to jump over. It was perhaps two meters away from her, and was about as tall as the roof she was standing on. That was doable, the only problem was the fact that she needed to get down to the ground again. Which in itself wasn't difficult, that was after all the purpose of gravity, but she preferred to land without breaking any bones.

The solution that presented itself was a tree on the other side of the fence. A tree that had been annoyingly placed as it wasn't right in front of her, but instead about four meters to the right of the roof, and another three behind the fence. The math wasn't that difficult and would mean that she'd have to jump a little over six meters, while there was an annoying fence in the way.

Neither the transgenics, nor her sister, would have had any trouble with a jump like that. But she was human, well mostly, and it was a bit more difficult for her. Not that she doubted her ability to make it, the most difficult part was crossing the fence at the right height and let momentum take care of the rest. Backing up a bit on the flat roof, she attempted to position herself just right before she started to run.

This time her movement was based on strength, not stealth, and it might have been possible that the couple in the bedroom would be able to hear her over their own noise. But that didn't matter, as she was soon flying away from them. There was a beautiful sense of freedom while being airborne and she enjoyed it to the fullest. For that brief time she was flying through the air she once again felt like a little girl on her first trip to Disney World. Of course, in Disney World you didn't regularly crash into the trunk of a tree at the end of your journey.

Halfway through the jump she realized what was going to happen, she had slightly miscalculated the height that was required to cross the fence. And as a consequence she wouldn't end up as high as she planned in the tree either. The intention had been to grab a branch and use it to slow her fall, but instead she ended up aimed at the middle of the trunk.

Extending her arms in front of helped a little, as they took the brunt of the impact, but even so she crashed into the tree harder than she would have preferred. On the other hand, it was still better than actually crashing to the floor instead of gliding down the trunk as she did now. And besides, it showed her that the alcohol she'd drunk during the party had been a bit too much after all. Not that she'd actually drunk that much, at least she didn't think she had. And it wasn't as if she wasn't used to drinking. Oh well, obviously she had miscalculated what she could handle tonight.

Normally she should have been able to adapt faster to the messed up jump. Adapt and succeed in achieving what she needed to do. Oh well, no harm no foul. Time to go on. She wasn't happy with her stupid mistake, but as there wasn't much she could do about it now she shrugged her concerns off. There were still a couple of checkpoints she needed to pass before she got to where she wanted to be. At least the way back was easier. But before walking on, there was something she could finally do now that she was no longer close to a place that might give away the location she was staying at. The perfect time to place a couple of calls.

Taking the cell phone from her pocket she dialed a number from memory.

"Oui?"

"C'est moi," Dawn answered.

"Yes?"

"Has my equipment arrived yet?"

The French man on the other end of the connection didn't need to think about the answer long. "It has. You can collect it anytime you want."

"Good. Has anything happened that I need to know about?"

"Non."

"Good," and with that last word she terminated the call. Her weapons were where they should be and once she had collected them she could go and see which of the people she'd called were trustworthy. Ordering weapons while she had her own shipped was perhaps a bit over the top, and expensive, but it was always better to have something the enemy didn't know about.

But now she should go and collect her package. Putting the phone back in the pocket she'd taken it from, Dawn set out for the place she could cross the barrier between this zone and the next.

X.X.X

"Master?"

"What?" Carlos growled at the fledgling that had interrupted his musings.

"We have located the fourth one."

The fourth one, finally. "It's about time you did."

Even a simple growl like that made the weakling before him cower back in fear. How was he supposed to take back control of the city if all he had to work with were creatures like this? On the other hand, having some expendable people around would definitely be a good thing when they'd finally confront Noir.

"Well? Speak up. Where is it?"

The weakling only got more scared every time he raised his voice, but Carlos didn't care. Fear was a great motivator, and the more scared his underlings were of him, the more secure his own position was. And as the shaking didn't stop the fledgling from answering the question he was more than happy with the situation. "A-a small gang had been approached by Noir f-for weapons. T-they are called Los Lobos, and l-like the others, they were told to have the weapons ready tonight."

"Get the noob," Carlos told him once he'd managed to decipher the stuttering. The noob was their newest member. In fact he was so fresh that he hadn't been turned until the night before. But he was a member of the team that the government had sent to track down his future queen.

Carlos had turned the man himself, expecting to get some information from his newest minion. But even he'd been surprised about the things Charlie Brooks had been able to tell him. The fact was that he didn't like what the man had told him, he hadn't known that Noir had been the Soldier Hunter and that information had almost been enough to rethink his plans.

The Soldier Hunter. Sure, humanity had believed she only hunted soldiers, but the demons had known better. The soldiers that had been hunted had all been connected to the mess in Sunnydale. So there could only be one possibility, despite everything that the community believed, she was actively hunting demons. There simply was no other reason she would have gone after those particular soldiers, and now he was trying to get her to join them.

A grim smile appeared on Carlos' face as he thought about it, sure there were some dangers in taking her in, but what he'd get in exchange for those few losses would be so much more. When he'd first devised the plan to bring her into his fold, he had still thought of Noir as a mere human who killed nothing but what she'd been hired to kill. Now though, with the knowledge that she was actually someone capable of casual murder and torture. Well, that was even better.

"You called for me?" Once again someone disturbed him from his thoughts, but as he had ordered the fledgling to come here…

"We have found the fourth seller. Are you sure there won't be any more?"

"I told you, I'm good at this shit. Hell, I'm leet when it comes to this chick. There's nothing I don't know."

"Except her real name."

That seemed to shut the fool up. "Well, yeah except that." Okay, almost shut him up. This was really getting to be annoying, and it was really the last time he'd turn a geek. Why the man had to talk in gibberish half the time wasn't something he understood, let alone something he wanted to understand. Why did he accept that anyway? Words like noob and leet weren't to be used in his domain. Well, except maybe to indicate the fool in front of him. But only he was allowed to do so, none of his underlings.

"But you are certain that she won't have any other sources?"

"Except for however she has her own weapons shipped in, yeah."

Except for, what? Slowly he turned his head to look Brooks full in the face and show him the true extent of his power, before slowly stating, "And why haven't you told me about that before?"

The other man didn't really seem impressed though. "Oh cut that out, Mansfield was far scarier than you can possibly be. And I survived working for that guy for years. But to answer your question, I figured you already knew."

"And why did you think that?"

"You seemed competent enough, and you were already in power before the States got slashdotted."

Another annoying term he didn't understand, but at least this one wasn't that hard to decipher. Not that he really knew what it meant to be slashdotted, but it probably had to do with the Pulse. But wait a minute. "Are you suggesting I'm not competent because I didn't know that?"

This time the fledgling realized what was likely to happen if he didn't answer the question the right way. "No! No! Not at all. I just thought that with you seeming to know everything else, you also knew about this."

"Even I can't know everything all the time. And you're the one who's been stalking Noir for the last what? Twenty years?"

"Almost eighteen."

Bloody annoying geek. "Eighteen then, and that was using more extensive resources than I can easily get my hands on. Now, explain!" Carlos roared that last sentence so loud that his entire home seemed to ring with the words.

And, judging by the sudden wide eyes, Brooks finally seemed to understand that whoever that Mansfield had been, he'd been nothing compared to a true Master. "Yes sir, I will." And Charlie Brooks started talking. Talking fast and nervously, as if he was trying to save himself from certain death. But despite the presentation the information was sound, and Carlos learned about the things the agent had been an accomplice to. From killing the innocent to ensure the secrecy of his team, to covering up crimes that wouldn't fit the profile of the Soldier Hunter.

He then started speaking about the time when everyone had believed the Soldier Hunter had been dead. The agents hunting her had never really believed this to be the case, despite all the proof that had been supplied, but they too had lost track of her. The woman believed by so many to be the Hunter had actually been one of Brooks' colleagues, as had been the unidentified man caught in the blast.

Even knowing she was still alive hadn't helped the agents though. No more soldiers got killed, and after six months without any results the team got disbanded. In the end it came down to over a year before she killed again, this time openly using the name that made her famous.

At that moment Noir became a reality and nobody was able to withstand this incarnation of Death. Aside from their team, which had been hastily resurrected, nobody saw the similarities with the Hunter. The profile had changed completely, going from a serial killer to a professional assassin capable of taking the most difficult jobs. But they had eventually realized that she was hunting the same people again. Except that this time around she did other jobs as well.

"I thought you said that your boss had killed the last link she had to the Initiative," Carlos demanded, while thinking that the Initiative was an interesting name for a program to hunt demons.

"He did, hell we even killed a woman and her children so that she'd be blamed for it. And it did work, she didn't hunt members of the Initiative after that." Brooks said, but seeing the look Carlos threw at him, he quickly continued explaining. "But that could also be because she found a different target, from that moment on she went after members of the Committee."

"Committee?"

"The people responsible for most of the black projects. They were behind the Initiative and even the whole Manticore mess."

"They were the ones that ordered the freaks created?" Well, at least Noir had done something else that was good. "Did she get them all?"

"Yeah, it took a couple of years, but as far as we know, she got every single one of them. Unlike before she was patient with them. It was impossible to protect them since you never knew when she was gonna strike. There could be weeks between the targets, or even years. But in the end, they all died."

"And now she's come to finish the job," Carlos whispered in near reverence. Oh this was so much better than he'd ever dreamed. Once he had her under his control she would be his personal assassin, his personal slave. But someone that powerful would definitely try to make a grab for power, so he had to preempt that. He would make her his queen, and together they would rule the underworld. Death, and her consort.

He frowned as that possibility struck him. No. He was the master, his name would be first. Consort sounded so, so, well he didn't really know what it sounded like but it sounded weak. As if you weren't able to rule your own kingdom. He would have to think about the name thing, not having her in the name would probably insult her, but it also should be clear that he was the one in charge. He'd have time to do so later though, first she needed to be captured.

"Get Crutcha," Carlos told one of the other fledglings that hadn't yet fled from his earlier outbursts. It was time to send his people to capture themselves a nice little assassin.

X.X.X

This place was crawling with vampires and demons as well, Dawn realized while she scanned the meeting place with her night-vision goggles. And, unlike at the other three spots, the vampires here didn't even bother to pretend. These fools hadn't even cleaned up the corpses of the people she had contracted. It wasn't the first time that demons had tried to get at her in one of these spots, but it was unusual that they had managed to find all of them.

And that just wasn't supposed to happen. After all the whole point in having multiple orders running at the same time was that nobody would know for sure where she'd go, and that anyone trying to catch her would have to spread his assets. But it seemed that this time she'd managed to piss of the local master. The only good thing was that they also kept the cops away.

In the end it all came down to one simple question. Did she really need the weapons she'd ordered from these people? Looking at the single suitcase standing next to her, the answer was pretty obvious. No, she had everything she needed to accomplish the mission. So she really should just turn around.

Right. Pick up the suitcase, turn around, and walk back to the mansion. No matter what she thought though, her body didn't move a single muscle and she continued staring at the group of vampires. She might not need the weapons but she did want to get them. Besides, this was such an obvious challenge that she couldn't just let it slide. Why had someone gone through all this trouble? What did they think to accomplish with it?

Sighing in resignation, Dawn knew what was going to happen. She was on the verge of convincing herself that it was actually necessary that she'd get the weapons and interrogate some of the vampires or demons for information. But that wasn't the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Gods! Had she been watching some kind of idiotic courtroom movie again?

Horrified that such a ridiculous thought had entered her mind, she shook her head in order to dispel it. There was a time and place for everything, except for things like that. However, the truth was that she didn't care about the weapons, or the villain of the week. She was simply itching for a fight, something to prepare herself for what was to come.

See? She could be honest to herself, there was no need to lie to everyone. Just because hardly anyone knew even half of what she planned to do, didn't mean that she couldn't tell the truth. And now, as a reward for telling herself the truth, she might as well go have some fun. The smirk that appeared on her face when she said that would have scared away anyone who saw it. Unfortunately for the creatures down the street, they never saw it.

Before doing anything else, Dawn checked one last time if she had everything she needed on her, before hiding the suitcase. This one was just as well-protected as the one at the mansion, but knowing the thief would die didn't help much in retrieving her equipment. At least not in the short run.

Once she got back down to the street, she started walking through the dark neighborhood in the direction of her latest targets, moving as silently as the death she personified. Nothing human would ever hear her come, but as she knew all too well, the beings she intended to kill weren't human. In fact, each and every one of them had probably killed more humans than she had. Reconsidering that, she amended the thought. Each and every one of them that had been turned over a decade ago might have killed more humans than she had.

Nevertheless, while she might not be able to sneak up on them it was still important to find out if she'd reached this group before they'd put up out any scouts. From her lookout spot earlier she'd already been able to verify that they hadn't placed them everywhere they should have. That still left a couple of spots she needed to check out though,

These were vampires, demons, and she couldn't sneak up on them. If any scouts existed, and she came near them, they would hear her heartbeat, her breathing, or any of a dozen other things she couldn't control. But, she decided while taking one of her special daggers in each hand, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It would be difficult, in fact she was pretty sure that no ordinary human should be able take out this many of them.

But since when had she let something as silly as facts get in her way? Right now she was circling around the group, in the hope she might be able to pick off a couple of scouts before she had to deal with the rest. And of course there was that one other thing. The little detail that only a select group knew of.

The human body was built in a certain way, but there were ways to improve it. Athletes had improved their body through gene therapy for nearly a decade, ever since it had become legal. And as she owned the companies where they had that done, why shouldn't she take advantage of it?

She was stronger than most humans, her training had already brought her to the top of what her body had been able to sustain. The genetic modifications only set the bar at a higher level, allowing her to reach that level faster, and keep her there with a minimum of training. In much the same way as she'd had her eyes take advantage of the latest improvements in that field.

Her eyes were far better than the standard twenty-twenty, and it had been achieved by nothing more than a laser treatment similar to the one people all over the world underwent on a daily basis. For the past two decades there had been speculations that it should be possible to improve your eyesight beyond what nature had provided.

The only thing missing was built-in night vision, and she was sure that one day that would become possible as well. Apparently some of the transgenics found in this city had something like it, but that wasn't something she wanted to use. Not only had their genetic tampering been done at an early stage in their embryonic development, making it impossible to duplicate in her own body, but they had used animal DNA for it. And there was no way in hell she'd put something inhuman into her own body.

Which left her with what she had. Realistically she knew that all these improvements to her body didn't even come close to the level of strength and speed she would be facing. The vampires in front of her were still stronger than she was, and even the early model transgenics would be able to beat her in practically every aspect. But often that little extra she'd received was enough, enough to surprise her opponent, enough to give her that short moment she needed to kill him.

The vampires were good to train against. Like all other demons they didn't seem to understand that killing someone should be done as quickly as possible. They never realized that the only thing that could be accomplished by letting someone die slowly was giving them another chance to kill you. When she would face the transgenics though, it could be over within seconds. They were soldiers, trained to kill as efficiently as she did.

Unprofessional, Dawn thought as she'd completed her check of the surroundings. She almost felt insulted by the vampires' behavior, how did they think to set up a decent ambush without anyone warning them of her approach? Did they really believe they could take her on like that? Well, that called for an object lesson even worse than she'd originally planned.

Approaching the group, pack, whatever, Dawn focused on the vampire she'd selected as the one that would be sacrificed first. The dagger in her right hand was a steel one inlaid with silver, but the one in her left was made from a kind of Ironwood of which she couldn't remember the complete name. It didn't quite have the same strength as most of her metal knives, but was still far better than any of the stakes Buffy had once used to kill vampires. Of course, it wasn't so much the weapon used, as the skill of the wielder that mattered.

As soon as it spotted her, the vampire approached at a speed that almost gave Dawn trouble seeing it in time. Waiting until the very last moment, she let the creature make the mistake, as she suddenly extended the wooden knife in front of her, letting the vampire stake itself. The resulting explosion of dust made her close her eyes for a moment, but it had been a long time since lack of sight had bothered her in a fight. Crouching down, she quickly swept her foot in a movement that took the next opponent to the ground, where she was able to stake him before he was able to get up.

Having accomplished that she was once again able to open her eyes and this allowed her to recognize the next demon for what it was. 'Stralik demon, known weaknesses: the throat,' the silver-inlaid knife that she used to try to stab it there was blocked, 'kneecaps,' a brutal kick took care of one of them and sent the demon to the ground howling, while he also released her hand. A quick slash later and she didn't even need to remember the other weaknesses.

By now however, the survivors were starting to get organized. They had seen the ease with which she had been able to defeat their comrades, and didn't feel the need to undergo the same treatment. They even skipped a level as the next attack came not from two sides, but from three.

Seeing the three vampires were trying to corner her, Dawn decided to take the fight to them. Instead of backing up as they were used to humans doing in a situation like this, she picked one of the vampires and attacked him. From the way he moved she had figured this one to be the strongest and she wanted to take him down in the few seconds she had before his friends would join him.

The wooden knife was blocked, as was the knee directed at his crotch, and the kick to the side of his body. A vampire with at least some martial arts training, but not enough, never enough. When her wrist was grabbed during the second attempt with her knife, Dawn didn't even think but used the other knife to cut into his wrist, causing blood to spill out.

Despite never having actually studied a vampire's physiology Dawn still knew how they reacted to damage. If they were susceptible to cuts, as she had often tested, then it made sense to her that slashing a major artery would have the same effect it had on a human being. And at first that seemed to be the case, but after a moment or two the lack of blood pressure caused the heavy bleeding to stop.

The shock at seeing his own blood like that had distracted her opponent though, so the fact that it stopped bleeding didn't really matter. Even with her face covered in blood, Dawn didn't hesitate to shove the knife between his ribs, and into his dead heart. "Poof," she whispered. A quiet concession that he'd put up a better fight than she'd anticipated.

Strangely enough though, none of the vampires or demons had spoken even a single word. Normally they were the ones who made the noise, while she moved silently among them in a beautiful dance of death. Her next opponent was already coming though, making sure she didn't have the time to think things over any further. All of her concentration needed to be on the here and now. There were still eight of them left, and she had no intention of letting any of them get away.

This vampire, a female one for once, had come too close for her to use her knife and Dawn was forced to back up, a movement that proved useless as the vampire kept pace with her. Now, normally she wouldn't really mind a good looking female like that paying attention to her, but she preferred her lovers alive. Besides, craning her neck enough so that she could look into the vampire's green eyes, Dawn didn't think that she would like its plans for the night.

If she hadn't needed her arms to fend of the vampire's attacks she could have used her elbows to push it away, but the attacks came too fast. Without any respite, attack followed attack. First the vampire slashed with its right hand, and when that was blocked she repeated the action with her left. A pattern was starting to build, but Dawn had no intention of getting into such a dangerous situation. No doubt there was another vampire standing behind her, but there was one thing that the vampire didn't take into account.

For any martial artist the arms and hands are only a small portion of the body they can use, and as Dawn was coming to grips with the speed of the attacks she had time to think of different movements. Her legs were free, and with a simple sweep of her foot she spilled the surprised vampire to the ground. Quickly bending through her knees, she staked it while extending one foot to her back in an attempt to keep off the other vampire.

Looking up she saw the next ones coming, while a quick glance over her shoulder told her that she'd managed to kick the vampire there to the ground. To her right was a wall, so that left only one side as a place to move too. A cartwheel to her left ensured both that she was out of immediate danger, and that she had sore hands. Okay, it had been fun so far, but maybe she had overestimated her own abilities a bit.

She had maybe two seconds before the next vampire would reach her, and she needed a bit more time. A short movement and the silver-inlaid knife was flying through the air, until it pierced the vampire's throat and spine, causing it to fall down as it could no longer control its muscles.

The next one was already coming though, but for that one she had a far better surprise. Unsnapping the silenced, custom-built, .44 that was holstered on her right leg, Dawn aimed it in one flowing movement and, using her second hand to steady the gun, pulled the trigger. The hollow-point bullet smashed into the vampire's brain, decapitating it, before it even had time to be surprised about the fact that someone was going to use a gun on it.

Dawn didn't stop after the first one though, every vampire around received a similar treatment during the next seconds until those who hadn't been dusted by the gunshot lay on the ground with a large hole in their head. Which left only the demons. The same demons that were still standing there, shocked by her actions.

Unless her count was off, she still had three bullets left in her gun. Three bullets for five demons. Unless they'd be kind enough to stand behind each other, and decrease the density of their thick hides, that wouldn't be enough. She doubted she'd have the time for a reload, although she wasn't quite sure how useful that would be anyway.

Once she'd made the mistake of using a gun against a demon where she wasn't sure that would be successful. Eventually she had killed it, but the time she'd spent recovering from her wounds had been wasted. At least this time there was no demon here that she hadn't at least read about, so she knew their weaknesses. Unless of course the writer of the article had messed up, like he'd done with the prolzics.

She emptied the gun on the two demons she was pretty sure would be affected by it. And even with them she aimed for their tiny eyes. One of them went down when her first shot tore into its eye, creating a large hole. That might not have killed it immediately, you could never be sure with these inhuman things, but it was out for quite a while.

With the other demon her first shot had missed its eye, and as the bullet struck a bone it didn't seem to have a lot of effect on it. The way it seemed to dismiss her attempt at killing did incense her slightly, so instead of risking losing the last bullet as well, she aimed for another known weak spot.

When the demon's throat was destroyed it stopped its annoying laughter. No more bullets left, and as the remaining demons had now come out of their paralysis she had to fall back on other means.

Quickly Dawn stepped to the vampire she'd disabled with the silver knife earlier and tore it from his throat. While doing so, she looked into its wildly rolling eyes and wondered what it was thinking. There was no way it could move anything below its neck, and with no possibility of getting air past its vocal cords it couldn't even scream for help. However, she was pretty certain that it was begging for mercy. And as she didn't want to risk it getting up while her back was turned, she decided to extend it.

Staking the vampire was the work of moments, and as soon as it burst into a cloud of dust she was moving again. The demons weren't very far from her now and she wanted to take out as many as she could before they reached her. The two knives disappeared into their sheaths, and in their place she started using her throwing knives. This time the immediate goal wasn't to kill them, but to disable them so she could get the chance to do so. For one demon this meant aiming at the chest, for another the throat, and with the last one she once again aimed for the eyes.

The small, silver, knives were nearly impossible to track in the dark street but she knew most of them struck exactly where she'd aimed. Of the three demons there was only one that came through the onslaught unscathed. Another had managed to turn away so that the knife didn't strike a vital spot, while the last had crumbled to the ground holding its throat in an attempt to stem the flow of blood.

She didn't feel sorry for them, and without a second thought she continued her attack. A flying kick managed to topple the still distracted demon that she'd managed to hit, and before it, or its friend, managed to react she'd cut up its hamstrings. It probably wouldn't take long for it to heal a relatively light injury like that, but it would be long enough.

The other demon had reasserted itself though and as she was focusing too much on the other, Dawn didn't see the blow coming. She did feel it though. The blow itself was hard enough to send her airborne and crash into the wall several meters away. At the moment of the crash, all the air inside of her body was expelled and before she even hit the ground she was already gasping for air.

Gods, that hurt. But she wasn't a professional for nothing and it didn't take long for her to come back to her senses. A quick mental check of her body seemed to indicate that nothing had been broken—yeah, score one for genetically improved bones—but once she was back in her room she'd have to do a more thorough check.

A horrifying thought hit her then, what if the demon had hit her head instead? The impact might have shaken her brain so much that it caused enough damage to kill her. Which meant she wouldn't have been able to complete the mission, a mission that was far too important to fail. No matter, Dawn thought, he hadn't hit her head and the rest was useless speculation.

While these thoughts raced through her head, Dawn had managed to get herself on her knees again. Her vision was still a bit blurry from the impact, but she could clearly see the demon approaching. He'd managed to duck the first knife that had been thrown at him. But could he do the same when she threw more at him? Realizing there was only one way to test that, she pulled back the small flaps near her wrists, exposing the sets of throwing knives stored there.

These were smaller, but once again it was the skill of the wielder that counted. The moment the demon noticed what she was about to do, it started running, no longer trying to look menacing but instead attempting to reach her before she managed to start throwing these knives. It failed. As far as she knew there was only one human being that was once as good at this as her, and she had been forked to death.

The second pair was already flying through the air while the demon was still busy ducking the first. Impressively, it even managed to avoid that second set, but the third and fourth were simply too much. Even so, it reached her and wrapped its hands around her neck.

The knives had to have had some effects, because otherwise the purple demon would have snapped her neck immediately. Or it simply wanted her to suffer while she died, there was always enough of that nonsense going around. Instead of obeying her instincts, and futilely try to remove the strong hands that were wringing the life out of her, Dawn took hold of the silver knife she'd retrieved earlier and slammed it in the demon's neck. For a moment she thought it hadn't worked, until with a slow keening sound the strangling grip disappeared and the demon fell backwards.

Good! Not wasting another second she scooted on top of its body and repeatedly plunged the knives into its chest, until not even that caused anymore movement. The demon goo was splattered all over her now, and she had a feeling she didn't make for a pretty sight when she raised her head to look at the remaining demons. They wanted to get away, she could see it in their expressions. Pure, naked, fear was one emotion she was able to recognize on every face, human or otherwise.

The demons actually started to get up from where they still lay, although their wounds prevented them from moving very quickly. Jumping up from where she was seated, Dawn was quicker. A lot quicker. The distance was bridged in a timespan that didn't seem to exist for her, while all the time she could think of only one thing. Kill them. Kill them all.

Krisklik, that was the demon's kind. The observation barely managed to reach her conscious thoughts while she slashed its throat. One down, three to go. This part of the fight couldn't even be called a fight anymore, it was a slaughter. Every time one of the demons tried to put up resistance, she broke through it. Every time they tried to hit her, she saw the blow coming before it was even executed and turned it to her advantage.

But she was nice. She only killed three of them. Not that the remaining demon had been lucky. The only thing that separated it from the others was that final killing stab in the heart. But she had managed to pull herself out of the killing frenzy that sometimes still took her over. It hardly ever happened, and she had a feeling that it was a residue from the initial merger. It had happened too fast, too quickly, and now she sometimes lost control.

But that didn't matter. For now she would allow the demon to rest while she took care of the vampires that were slowly starting to regain consciousness. Kneeling beside the first one, she staked it, and immediately discovered an annoying side effect to the demon blood— aside from the incredible stench of course. The vampire dust, ashes, whatever, stuck to it. Rising to her feet again, she tried to get the stuff off her, but failed.

Instead of allowing her rage to get the better of her again, she simply continued staking the prone vampires. But every time she did so she thought about the way this little outing had ruined another good suit. And not only a suit, raising her hand to her still sore throat Dawn tried to figure out what it looked like. It was obviously red, and considering the size of the demon's hands the mark probably covered most of her neck.

Finishing the rest of the vampires as fast as she could, Dawn then walked over to the suitcase that she'd ordered. Ignoring the smell of massacred humans, she opened it up and checked to contents to see if everything was there. As expected everything was there, and she took a small bundle from it.

Depending on the person she contacted, questions were asked about the orders she placed. But for some reason that she couldn't really understand, nobody ever asked her anything about these. And as she opened the packet and placed the contents close to the demon's body, she couldn't help but wonder about that. They were tools meant for surgeons, what did they think she was going to do with it?

Instead of wondering even more about the silly behavior of humanity, Dawn focused on the demon and with a bright smile on her face, and a scalpel in her hand, she asked her first question. "Now tell me, why were you waiting for me here?"

* * *

Post-fic comments: And yet another chapter. I hope you're still all enjoying the story and will let me know about it.

MaxS452, Xelab, thank you both for your feedback. It's always good to see that people are enjoying my work.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_June 2009_

"You have done well," the priestess told him, while they were walking over the grounds.

"Thank you."

"However, there is one thing that still puzzles me."

Mansfield raised an eyebrow in a silent request for her to continue, but when that didn't immediately work he voiced his question. "What is it that puzzles you?"

"In all these years that you've hunted this woman. Whether she called herself the Soldier Hunter or Noir, why is that you never managed to discover her real name? She is after all a mere human."

That had been the same question that had plagued him for the past years as well, and he had to admit that he didn't yet have a satisfactory answer for it. "I don't know. One of her earlier targets speculated that she was the victim of a magical attack that gave her a level of skill that exceeds even that of the Phalanx."

"She is human." The priestess' words were curt and harsh, no mere human could be compared to a Familiar. Nothing on earth came even close to them. Just because there were some demons that were physically tougher didn't matter.

"I realize that, and I had no intention of using that as an excuse. Nor will I use the excuse that I was forced to work with mere humans. But there is no doubt that for a human she is very capable."

"You want her," the priestess said in a tone that came close to wonder.

What? "How do you mean?"

"You believe that she would do well in the breeding program."

"Yes," Mansfield admitted, "in fact I believe she would be excellent for the program."

"This has already been discussed by the Conclave. It has been our decision that the woman calling herself Noir will not be used for this purpose."

"Why not?" This was strange, normally the Conclave was all over someone that had genes as good as Noir obviously had. "She'd be excellent for it."

"You've already said so," the bald woman replied, while walking deeper into the woods that surrounded the school, "but the Conclave has deemed her too dangerous."

"Too dangerous? But you said it yourself? She's only human. In fact, if you'd need a volunteer, I would be willing to try." Man, would he like to try. A beautiful well-trained woman like Noir… He would be more than willing to impregnate her.

"Yes, she is a mere human. But the Conclave too has reached the conclusion that she might have been influenced by magic. There have been attempts in the past to use those capable of magic, and almost none of them had a positive outcome."

Mansfield felt his brow crease in confusion, what did she mean by that? Before asking he moved a branch so that the priestess had an unobstructed path. "May I ask what you mean by that?"

"So formal, Jonas?" the priestess asked him with a slight smile, "but yes. I will tell you about it"

A short silence followed that statement, before she started to tell him about these earlier attempts. "We have existed for thousands of years, a history that no other existing civilization can claim. And during all that time we have recorded what we've been doing, how we tried to improve ourselves, and our children. It is exactly for that reason that I must confess to being surprised that the same mistake has been made over and over again."

"Mistake? What mistake?"

"Slayers." Once again a short sentence spoken in a harsh and uncompromising tone told him more than he would have believed possible.

"There have been attempts to take Slayers into the fold?" Mansfield couldn't hide the surprise he felt at that possibility. Sure, it made sense in a way. Slayers were after all physically more powerful than any other human being, including Familiars, but most of the time they were willing to throw away their lives for the most unworthy of causes.

"Yes, the last attempt was a mere three hundred years ago. Once again the Watchers had failed to locate the newly called Slayer, and the Conclave decided to take advantage of that. It wasn't the first attempt, but without going into the specifics this time it was yet another spectacular failure. The girl had not even conceived before she started giving trouble, and the Conclave was forced to order the Phalanx to kill her."

Damn, he had a very good idea of what was going to be said next. "How many did she kill?"

"Most of them, setting back the Phalanx program almost an entire century," the priestess sighed in regret as she told him this.

"Okay, I can understand why you wouldn't want to try again with a Slayer, but why not Noir?"

"It wasn't only the Slayers that gave trouble. One other attempt at roughly the same time was with witches, this took place in a town called Salem. I'm sure you've heard of the actions that needed to be taken to quiet the people there."

Of course he had, the Salem witch trials weren't something you could ignore when it came to the history of the country he was now living in. "I take it there were even more, less well-known events as well?"

"Many, including attempts to breed with demons."

"Demons?" This time Mansfield was completely unable to keep the horror and disgust at such a thought from his voice. But come on! He shivered in disgust at such a horrible thought.

"That was a long time ago, and the Conclave at the time was removed because of it."

Nothing less than they deserved. By now their walk had taken them back onto the grass again though, and he suddenly missed the smell that came from the small forest. "Alright, I understand now why you don't want to take the chance."

"Indeed." They continued walking in silence for another couple of minutes until the priestess spoke up again. "There is something else I would like to know."

Oh, this couldn't be very good, could it? "Yes?"

"How did Noir find out your name?"

Because some annoying agent had followed his orders to the letter, and then done what she wanted. He had no intention of admitting that a mere human had managed to circumvent the spells that had been supposed to keep her loyal though, so he chose another explanation. "I think it happened when I directed her against the committee. The soldier, Finn I believe, probably lived long enough to add to my note."

"It was my understanding that you'd tied him up."

"Somehow he must've gotten loose."

They were both silent for a while, before the priestess spoke again. "But she never went after you, did she?"

"I have a feeling she believed me to be part of the Committee."

"A mistake like that doesn't sound like something she would make."

Mansfield shrugged, he didn't have a better explanation about that either. And besides, with Noir out of the States he could finally get away from that silly team of incompetents that helped him hunt her. They made for good cannon fodder, but that was all they were good for. "I'm not sure what else it could be. Unless you think she's keeping me for last."

"No," the priestess shook her head in denial of that possibility, "everything points to her having left after killing the last Committee member. She's left this country, and I doubt she'll return any time soon."

"Do you want me to continue hunting her?"

A slight smile appeared on her face when he asked that question. "No, that will not be necessary. I'll order some other familiars to look into any women leaving for France."

"France? Yes, although you might want to check Japan as well."

"Very well, you're the one that's been hunting her." Before she could say anything else though she suddenly turned towards the east. "What is that?"

Looking in the same direction Mansfield had no doubt that his actions were repeated by most American citizens on the eastern shore. The Pulse itself didn't seem that impressive to him, all that he could see was a sudden lightening of the night sky. As the EMP pulse raced towards his location though, he discovered what it did when suddenly all power seemed to switch off. The two of them stood quietly waiting until the diesel generators kicked in, and the lights came back, but once that had happened the priestess was quick to dismiss him.

"I have to talk to the Conclave about this. See what you can find out, and report back to me later."

Driving up to the small village, Dawn could hardly believe her eyes. It actually existed, and came so incredibly close to what she remembered of it. Parking her car in the town center she got out, and started walking. There was the bell tower from which the mayor had been sniping. There was the church where they had prayed for her. To her.

But the one thing she really needed to see was still a ways off. Following the slightly twisting path that led to it, she couldn't help but be surprised at the children playing with a ball. Didn't the similarities ever end? It made her even more afraid that she might actually find what she didn't want to see.

There had been no proof that Soldats existed, nobody in this world seemed to believe Noir was anything but an Anime series. At least, until she started openly using the name. But what if it did exist? What if she was going to find the irrevocable proof that her counterparts did exist? Or had once existed? What if it was all real? What if they only used other names? Names she hadn't tried?

Despite the warmth of the sun, Dawn shivered at that thought. If there actually was another Noir she would never feel safe again. She would have to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. And when had she become so scared of death? She was Death, she was the Grim Reaper. She couldn't resist the soft smile when she remembered why she no longer wanted to die. Yes, that was a very good reason.

Her musings had brought her to her destination however, and she couldn't help but feel the nervousness return. A small stone monument at the end of a winding road. The monument at the end of the village. And in her world, the monument where her predecessors were honored. She remembered the shock of first seeing it, irrevocable proof that the villagers' only purpose in life was to help her.

But now, now it could be so much more. Yes, she was afraid of what she might find, and she was more than willing to admit that. What if it was real? No. She had to stay calm. There was no reason for her to expect anything. Nobody had bowed to her so far, nobody had taken off their hat in reverence simply because she walked past. Steeling herself, Dawn took those last few steps and peered inside the monument.

Only to let out a big sigh of relief. This chapel was dedicated to some king or another. No half-naked women here, no swords, no priestess giving them their blessing. And to her, this was the final proof. Noir did not exist in this world. She was the only one. Thinking that didn't make her all that happy though. Sure, it meant she didn't need to be afraid of being hunted by yet another group, but it would have been so wonderful to have a partner. Someone who she could talk to, someone who understood what she had gone through.

But it wasn't to be. She was alone, never to find that perfect partner who understood her every action. A partner with whom she could go out for dinner along the Seine. No partner who could provide some of the information she didn't have. No Mireille. No Chloe. Nobody.

Shaking her head she stopped that train of thought. She shouldn't be thinking about this anymore. It was enough to know that before her there had been no Noir. Her curiosity had been quenched, and she could go home now. Back to her apartment in Paris, back to start living a normal life. No more killing, everything above board.

She'd had her fill of killing. There was no reason to start over again, the people responsible for the deaths of her friends had died. Xander had been avenged. Jane could now rest in peace. Sara would know that her friend had taken care of everything. Oh yes! It was over! It was all over! For a moment she felt as if she could burst from happiness.

Until that same happiness came crashing down again. She would never see any of them again. They were dead, and if there really was an afterlife she was certain they would be living in Heaven. Whereas she, Dawn snorted at the realization, she would go to the place that had been reserved for her at birth. A maiden with black hands had only one destination after she died.

"Noir, it is the name of an ancient fate. Two maidens who govern death. To the depths of hellfire, their black souls lure the lost children." It was only one of the statements made about her, and her predecessors, but it was the one that fit the situation best.

From her thin jacket, she then took her most prized possession. The link to her past, the one thing left that reminded her of her partner. Opening the watch she was half-disappointed at the lack of music coming from it. But she had consciously made the decision against either making this one work or buy a functional one, and now that would make it easier to put the past behind her. With a snap that seemed louder than it was, she closed the watch and put it behind the small statue.

"Farewell." She whispered the word, but it was enough for her. With the short ceremony over, Dawn stepped back out of the small building. And froze when she felt something small hit her legs. Fearing what she was about to see, she looked down. It was yellow. Why did it have to be yellow? Bending down she picked up the ball and only then did she look at the children who it belonged to. "Mireille."

"That's not my name," the blond little girl said while stretching her arms in a silent demand for the ball.

'I killed your parents,' was what she had said to the similar looking little girl on the other world. Now she was in a better frame of mind, and managed to stop herself from doing so. "Do you know who I am?"

A pealing laugh came from the happy girl. "Of course I do, silly."

Dawn once again felt her heart speed up. It wasn't possible, they couldn't really know. There was no Noir here, she was alone and none of the people here could possibly know who she was. She tried not to show her panic, although she had a feeling that if she hadn't been wearing sunglasses it would have been futile. "You do?"

"Yes, you're the woman from the car. Everybody saw you coming."

The woman from the car, thank the gods. "That's exactly who I am. Before I give you back your ball, and let you play, could you help me with something?"

"Sure," the girl answered, looking as unconcerned as a child that age should look.

"I'm getting a bit hungry, could you tell me where I can go to eat something?"

"Of course, there's a croissanterie close to where your car is. Their croissants are even better than mama's." The last part was whispered in her ear, and Dawn felt her mood lighten from the child's actions.

"Merci. Now, go and have fun." Giving back the ball, she watched the children for a moment. A small group of children playing this unconcerned seemed almost impossible for someone who had spent most of her life in a big city like Los Angeles, but these children didn't have to concern themselves with either gangs of humans or demons that might terrorize the neighborhood. And they'd probably never know how lucky they were.

When she walked over the square in the center of the village, Dawn wondered how she could have missed the croissanterie the first time. Even from a distance of fifteen meters she relished in the delicious smell emanating from the shop. Her stomach made itself known, by loudly protesting the fact that she hadn't eaten anything the entire day. But she had just been too nervous to even contemplate doing so.

Opening the door she was greeted by several curious, but friendly faces. This truly was an out-of-the-way town, wasn't it? Even in the most remote areas of the States had she encountered more suspicion than pure friendliness. Not to say there weren't friendly people, but this was the first time that everyone was nice. And she couldn't help but be nice back. Besides, she had just given up her profession and there was no more need for her to shield herself from others.

"Bonjour," she greeted them while taking of her sunglasses.

Obviously this was considered a good sign, as the smiles got even bigger. "Bonjour madame."

"I got a bit hungry, and when I asked a little girl she told me that this place made even better croissants than her mother. And I just had to see if this was true."

Her words brought a loud laugh from most of the guests, as they began calling to one man. "Hey Jacques, why do I think she's met your little girl?"

"Jacques, when are you going to tell Mary that your daughter spreads these tales around?"

The ribbing went on a bit longer, until the owner of the croissanterie, a solid looking older woman, called a halt to it. "Stop it, don't you see the poor dear is hungry? Let her order her food without having to shout."

"Excusez moi, ma belle."

"Oh, and you can stop the false flattery as well, you old grouch," the woman told the man who'd just called her beautiful.

"But it wasn't false flattery! You know I would never lie to you," the man told her with an innocent look on her face.

The woman ignored him however, and turned to Dawn. "Now dear, what can I do for you?"

"Those sandwiches look pretty good, and a croissant would be wonderful."

"Strawberry jam?"

"Perfect."

The woman gave a contented nod, obviously feeling that her tastes were up to par. "Why don't you sit by those old men. They could use someone pretty to clear up the environment. And that way you won't have to sit alone either while I prepare your order."

With a laugh that came remarkably easy, Dawn agreed to that and moved to sit with the men. "Hello pretty lady. You look even better this close up." Oh yes, this would be a fun lunch.

"Oh, you don't all look so bad either."

"If only I wasn't married," one of the men sighed in obvious false regret, "I'm Pierre, you've already met Jacques' daughter I believe. The blond fellow on your other side is Antoine, Thierry is next to him, and that only leaves Marc and Pascal. Now that you know our names, why don't you give us yours, so that we can make our wives jealous."

"As if Bernadette would feel jealous about you," the owner said from behind the counter.

"Oh, Véronique! You wound me."

"Pah," the woman smiled back, "if you can't take the truth."

Instead of going against her, Pierre leaned closer to Dawn and, while making sure everyone could hear it, told her. "Don't pay any attention to her, she's jealous Bernadette got to me first."

The resulting laughter didn't stop with the men, Véronique joined in as well, and Dawn couldn't remain behind. Once everybody had calmed down again though, she spoke up. "My name is Dawn."

"Dawn? You're English? But you don't butcher our beautiful language like the English do."

"Non, I was born American, but don't hold that against me. Coming to France felt like coming home, and I don't intend to ever leave again."

Once again her statement was accepted by the men, and when Véronique then not only brought her lunch, but also came with a fresh bottle of wine, they even raised their glasses. "Viva la France."

"Viva la France."

"So, Dawn," Véronique asked while she joined them, "what brings you here?"

Before she could answer though, Thierry spoke up. "Isn't it obvious? She's come to see the Manor."

Dawn had been in the middle of dipping her buttered croissant into the jam, but froze when she heard this. "Manor?" The whisper was all that she could get out of her mouth. The Manor existed after all? Without the village to protect it she hadn't believed it could exist, but what if it was still the place where Noir was trained?

"You don't know the Manor?" Her discomposure had been perceived wrongly, but she had no intention of correcting the assumption they had made.

"Of course she doesn't. Nobody knows about the Manor, except for us," Antoine told Thierry, before turning back to her. "Or do you?"

By then she had been able to collect her thoughts again, and did what she had hoped wouldn't be necessary again. She lied. "I don't think so. I was actually around here to explore the country a bit. Why don't you tell me about it?"

And so they started telling her about the Manor. The building itself had been built about a thousand years earlier, a time frame that was enough to make her feel even worse, but had been abandoned shortly after. "Sometimes somebody comes around to start living in it, but aside from madame Claudine nobody stays for long."

"Madame Claudine?"

"Yes, she lived here for almost fifty years, until she died about a hundred years ago."

"But nobody has lived there since?"

"Nobody. Do you think you might want to live there?"

It wasn't exactly her first choice, but on the other hand she also had quite a number of good memories of the place. "Maybe, how do I get there?"

Unsurprisingly, the route they gave her to the Manor, that was hidden between the mountains, was the exact same one she had followed when she'd gone to meet Altena.

Dawn stopped the car the very moment she had her first view of the buildings. Looking over the sprawling estate she had a moment where she believed herself to back in the past. Half-crazed after walking across most of France, and finally being ready to make that final step required to accept herself for what she truly was.

Not even driving through the woods where she had slipped into her emotionless persona had had this effect. But then again, while that had been an important event, it basically came down to killing those who tried to kill her. And if the memories of such a thing would stop her from acting normal, well… there wouldn't be many places she could go to.

Taking a deep breath she steeled herself and managed to dispel the ghosts of the past. This was another world, there was no Altena here; Chloe would not be waiting so that they could do their preparations for the ritual together. And Mireille wouldn't be coming either. No, this was a different place, and now that she was finally admitting this to herself she started to notice the differences.

The vineyard alone was completely different. Instead of the ordered and well-cared for yard that Altena had maintained, everything had grown rampant. She wasn't that well-versed in knowledge about these things, but she did know that it would be several years before there would be grapes here that could be used to create wine. Which, she had to admit, was a shame. The wine that came from the Manor had always been exceedingly good. Of course, she had grown up drinking it, which might influence her opinion on that.

The next thing she noticed was the small arena, which proved to her that, despite the villager's words, this Manor already existed during the time that the Romans still ruled most of the world. Sure, there were obvious signs of additions that had been placed there during the Renaissance, but in those days nobody would have built an arena like that. She had seen the Circus Maximus in Rome, and this had been built to a similar model, although on a far smaller scale. What exactly differed from the one she knew, wasn't something she could say but it was obvious that the maintenance had been done by different people.

Skipping several of the other ruins that only served to give an abandoned look to the place, Dawn searched for the pond. That tiny lake where the final confrontation had started, that place where the end finally began. Starting there, her eyes traced the path through the ruins where the running gun battle with Mireille had taken place. Pausing at the various spots either of them had almost managed to hit the other.

How serious had that fight been? Even now, having had years to think about it, she wasn't entirely certain. There had been three saplings where only two had been allowed, and she had wanted to restore the balance. The memories of the close misses were so sharp that they were hard to avoid, but she really didn't have time for that. Okay, she had the time. She just didn't want to waste that time on things that she couldn't control anyway.

So, Dawn hardly spent any time looking at the centerpiece of the surrounding buildings, the place where once maidens had vied with one another for the title of Noir. Only the best could be chosen, and while many might consider it a harsh way of determining who was the best, a battle to the death did never leave more than one winner. But there was only one building that truly mattered to her now. Only one where she could see if this world had once held her counterparts.

The Manor itself didn't differ much more from what she remembered than the outlying buildings had. Some parts of it looked better maintained, even after a century of disuse, but the crumbly looking outside had mostly been a pose. Something to hide what was inside.

Dawn realized that it hadn't just been the building that had looked unassuming. The people it sheltered, hid, never quite seemed to be as deadly as they were. The nuns whose purpose was to make her Noir, the kind mother—who in her own right was deadly as well—and of course, the children. It had been Chloe who spent most of her time at the Manor, but Dawn still remembered times she had been here. Memories of this place had taken a long time to return, and even now she had a feeling that some of them were still hidden within the recesses of her mind.

But they were unimportant. She had now seen of the place what she could from this distance, and it was time to go closer. Time to face her demons. Figuratively speaking.

Walking back to the car she mulled her options over. Should she drive closer, or go for a more stealthy approach? In itself the place was well enough situated that it was nearly impossible to approach unseen, but that was only if you didn't know the surroundings. She was more than capable of approaching unseen, but why should she? Without really paying attention to her movements, she began strapping on a harness for her guns. And it was only when she realized what she was doing that she made her decision. If she felt this uncomfortable about going there, there just had to be a reason for it. Dawn trusted her subconscious, in fact she sometimes trusted it better than the information she'd gathered.

Whether it was a side-effect of the spell, or simply Kirika's well-developed sense of danger that sought to inform her of what was going on, was once again something she didn't know. But, like with so many other things, she didn't really care either. The feelings were there, she could trust them, and they had probably saved her life several times before. So, if her instincts told her she would need weapons, she would take weapons.

Gearing up for battle, Dawn never even noticed the inconsistency in her behavior. Only a couple of hours earlier had she told herself it was over, no more killing, all that would matter from now on was to be living a nice life. She even had a plan ready for it; the money that she'd made would be used for setting up a business—or maybe simply taking one over.

But instead of setting up a business proposal, she was once again pulling on straps so that they wouldn't hamper her movement, checking the sights of her guns, and placing her knives within easy reach. Slipping an extra gun in the small of her back, Dawn wondered where she could hide the car, before deciding that the chances of someone stealing it here were exceedingly slim. After all, she smiled grimly, this was a place forgotten by time.

The first part of the journey was one for which she took her time. She was still elevated quite a bit over the Manor itself and used this opportunity to scout more of it. Only this time she wasn't looking for memories, this time she was trying to find signs of habitation. If someone was here, and if that someone posed a threat to her, she needed to be prepared.

But even when she had ended up at the base of the mountain, she hadn't seen anything dangerous. Except for the memories, but by now she was actively suppressing them. This place was dangerous enough, even without anyone else present there was enough danger to go around. Below the Manor itself, in a temple-like room there was an open pit that reached deep into the earth. And at the bottom there was lava, rocks that had been heated until they reached a liquid state.

Or that's how it had been in the other world, Dawn admonished herself. In this world the situation might be completely different, although a free source of heat like that was unlikely to be discarded. Whatever the case, even if there were no people here it would be unwise to let her guard down.

Quietly she stalked through the vineyard, making sure she couldn't be seen by anyone in the Manor itself. The wild grapevines did help with that, as they were high enough that she didn't really need to duck. Even moving silently it didn't take her long to cross the sweet smelling yard, and it wasn't long before Dawn stood with her back pressed against the wall next to the hole where a only the remains of a door were still visible.

That at least was a clear difference, but if it was true that nobody had been here for over a century it made sense. She was calm now as she held her guns next to her head; her mind running on cold logic instead of the emotions that she had once again shut down. But even in this state of mind she couldn't stop a hissing breath from escaping her mouth when she noticed the butt of a cigarette lying next to the door.

Somebody had been here recently, the Manor might be reasonably shielded from the environment, but that didn't mean a cigarette would survive lying on the ground for long. Had it been there for longer than a couple of days, a week at most, it would have been carried away by the wind. No, somebody had come here recently and she had a feeling that they wouldn't have left.

But why? And even while asking herself that, Dawn already knew the answer. To hunt her. Someone had assumed that she would go here, and now she had walked straight into whatever trap they had set up. But who? The agents? No, that was unlikely. They might have been able to think of something like this, but they were Americans and it was unlikely that they'd received permission to come here.

Reporters then? Or vigilantes? Neither made a lot of sense. Reporters would never want to face her as directly as this, and vigilantes… well… vigilantes were usually a bunch of incompetent fools that would never have been able to get this far. On the other hand, fools were unpredictable so it could very well be them.

"Come in, miss Summers," a cultured voice suddenly broke through her musings.

And for a long second all her emotional control proved useless as a hatred, that was so pure and focused that it managed to purge her mind of all thoughts, washed over her. It was THEM. Only one group knew her real name, and while it had always surprised her, never had they exposed her true identity to anyone. In fact, it had been so long that she'd last had contact with any of them that she'd mostly forgotten they existed.

But now the knowledge of their existence was once again at the forefront of her mind. "Terakan," Dawn whispered, not caring if he could hear her or not. The murderers of her mother and sister were here, and they wanted something. Before going in to see what they wanted she took another ten seconds to compose herself, or at least make it so that she appeared composed. Letting these people see a weakness wasn't something she could afford, and unadulterated hatred was definitely a weakness.

But she couldn't afford to wait very long either. With an abrupt movement she both took a step towards the ruined door, and turned on her axis until her guns were pointed steadily inside the building. The darkness inside made it a bit more difficult to discern any shapes, but with one gun aimed at the man who had probably spoken and the other scanning around the room, she felt pretty safe.

Or at least as safe as she could be when she was in the presence of people who, while not quite at her level, were still pretty good at what they did. "Good afternoon, miss Summers."

Dawn still refused to answer the man, even after this greeting, and instead stepped over the rotting remainder of the door. Once she was inside she immediately stepped to the side, so that she was no longer highlighted by the sun behind her. Nobody had attacked her yet, but she was certain that would only be a matter of time. Once more she scanned the room, going so far as to walk around it and examining every hook and cranny.

Once Dawn was finally satisfied that the two of them were alone in the room, she focused on the man. Despite her reservations about the organization he belonged to— something that had been confirmed by the ring he proudly displayed on his hand—she was impressed. He hadn't shown any sign of nervousness; and that while a gun had been pointed at him the entire time. Pointed at him, in fact, by someone who was both more than willing and able to pull the trigger. "What do you want?"

Yes, the man looked very calm as he was sitting there at the table that had been set for two. Noticing that tiny detail she raised her eyebrow in a silent question. Did he really believe that she would eat something with him? "Ah, you're wondering about the arrangement of the table? I just thought that you might be hungry once you arrived, or maybe you'd like a glass of wine? I understand that wine is one of the few vices you indulge yourself in?"

"What do you want?" She wasn't here to play silly games like this, she wanted to know why he was here.

A regretful sigh was uttered by the man, and for a moment Dawn almost felt compelled to take him up on his offer. But there was no reason for her to feel sorry for someone like him. "Are you certain?"

Yes, she was damn well certain. What was this? Twenty questions? "What do you want?" This time she ensured the words came out so cold that they wouldn't have been out of place on Antarctica. Maybe that would make him realize how much she liked talking to him.

"It's always business with you, isn't it? Don't you realize that it's so much more useful for you to relax once in a while? That would stop the stress from overcoming you. And why don't you put that gun down, I'm sure that your arm must be getting heavy by now."

Once again the words seemed to trigger an emotional response within her, the feeling of loneliness that she had learned to live with so long ago, and indeed the urge that it might not be so bad to put down her gun. No, she shook her head, never letting her eyes of the man. Her arm was indeed getting heavy, which surprised her a bit, but instead of simply putting it down she waited with doing so until the gun in her other hand was aimed at him.

"What do you want?" This time it was harder to remain as business-like as she wanted. The man was being awfully nice to her, so why shouldn't she act a bit nicer to him as well? In fact, it was so bad that she almost bit her tongue to resist from thanking him for the suggestions. As if she needed something to relax.

The man—she still didn't know what to call him, nor did she actually care—shook his head. "As you wish. We'll go down to business."

Once more the urge to maybe have a glass of wine, and relax a little in the company of this nice man grew stronger in her. He was rather handsome, and wouldn't it be nice to spend some time with someone who understood her? Wasn't that the thing she had been thinking about earlier? And he really looked good, didn't he? And when he looked at her like that, didn't her heart speed up a bit? Wouldn't it be nice to find out what his lips tasted like? Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it?

Slowly but surely Dawn started walking closer to the man, until in the end she was standing next to the table. No matter how much she suddenly wanted to join him for a drink, and maybe more, she wasn't about to sit opposite him. He was facing the doorway, and if she'd place herself where her chair was waiting for her, she would be in far greater danger. Not only would he be able to see her far more clearly than the other way around, she wouldn't be able to see what was behind her either.

Her left hand continued pointing a gun at him, but they both knew that it was there more for show than anything else. Even while dragging the chair to the side of the table the hand never wavered though, ensuring that he wouldn't try anything. The man had been silent the entire time she had walked towards him, only staring at her with those expressive eyes of him. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a glass of wine?"

Dawn realized that earlier she had refused the offer, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember why. "Yes, I'd love that," she purred. Purred? Why was she purring? What was she? Some kind of cat? Did it matter?

"That's good to hear. It might not be from the vineyard here, but I made sure to bring a couple of bottles of the finest wines. And yes, they're still unopened so I can't have done anything to them."

She blinked at that. Oh yeah, that was always a possibility. She'd completely forgotten about that though, and besides the man she was talking to right now would never do something like that, would he? "Thank you."

Oh look at that smile! Once again she felt her heart racing because of his expression. "For a beautiful woman like you, this could never be a hardship"

Did he just call her beautiful? Dawn couldn't hide the pleasure she felt at that compliment. He had called her beautiful! Oh, this was almost too good to be true. Oh no! She was blushing like some silly schoolgirl, she couldn't let him see that! Quickly she turned her head away from him, until she felt the heat in her cheeks dissipate again. And when she turned back he was already pouring her drink.

It was strange, but she couldn't remember the last time she had felt this at ease. Sure, there had been moments in the past, but to have such a relaxing moment with someone she had for some reason despised was surprising. And when he handed her the glass of wine, Dawn didn't even have to think about putting down her gun. If she didn't she couldn't possibly take the glass, and that would just be rude.

"I propose that this first glass will be in honor of your beauty."

He did it again. For a moment she thought that there might be more to his flattery than appeared at first glance, but that thought was dismissed almost as quickly as it had appeared. Just because the man had a good taste in women didn't mean he was up to something. So, after first smelling the bouquet, that identified it clearly as a superior wine, she took her first sip. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. But now that we are so much more comfortable, don't you think it's a good idea to talk about us?"

"Us? Well, I could think of a couple of things that would involve us…" Dawn hinted coyly, while imagining exactly what she would do to him once she had him at her mercy in a nice comfortable bed.

"Now that does sound interesting, but it isn't quite what I wanted to talk about right now. We'll come back to that later."

"Great," she once again purred, before her mind suddenly switched gears in mid-thought. Where before she had felt mostly lust while she looked at him, now she really wanted to help him with anything he desired. Especially if it would concern the two of them naked, no, first things first.

"Indeed, now this may come as a surprise to you, but the Order has been interested in you for a long time."

What did she care about the Order? All she was interested right now was his interest in her. Bad Dawnie, answers first, fun later. "Oh? How nice."

"But there's one thing that has continued to surprise us," he continued—she still didn't know his name, what was up with that? "is the fact that we have never been able to track your movements completely."

Immediately she felt ashamed that she had been hiding from him. Who knew what she could have done before today if she hadn't done so? Maybe they could have skipped this conversation and gone straight to be- No! Answers first. Once again her mind interrupted her thoughts. Huh? What kind of strange thought was that? That didn't matter, her mind was right though, she really should be answering the handsome man. "How do you mean?"

Even while she said it, Dawn knew that it was the wrong answer and the disheartened feeling grew even worse when her companion spoke in a slightly disappointed voice. "Of course you know what I mean. I refer to the fact that you've somehow managed to hide yourself from magical oversight."

Magical oversight? What kind of ridiculous term was that? A new wave of sudden lust stopped that thought cold, and almost made her jump the man in an attempt to quench her mounting passion. But she managed to control herself—barely—and concentrated hard to give him an answer. "I'm not sure actually. I think it has something to do with the spell that made me who I am."

No, there was more to it and she should tell him. Why hide anything from this wonderful man? Panic started to mount as she thought about that, there wasn't anything else about it that she could tell him. How could she tell him things she didn't know? That would mean she'd have to lie, and she couldn't lie! She felt torn between what seemed at that moment to be the two most important objectives of her life. Luckily her future lover changed the subject when he noticed her panic. "Easy, my love. Don't worry about it. Let's talk about that spell instead. I take it you refer to the one cast by Ethan Rayne during Halloween of 1997?"

The panic had disappeared almost immediately after he told her to calm down, and Dawn was now once again capable of thinking about it. "Yes, that one," she bit out, but even her normally extreme hatred of the mage seemed muted.

"Yes, there have been speculations about that in the Order. Is it true that you actually turned into the character you dressed up as?"

She only nodded her head, not wanting to be reminded of that terrible night, but not wanting to disappoint him either. Luckily, he placed his warm hand against her cheek so that she had something to concentrate on, aside from the memories.

"That must have been terrible for you, a young girl who was suddenly confronted with the true horrors of the night." He really was wonderful, it was almost as if he could read her mind, so well did he know her. What if he actually could re-. Once again a thought was abruptly interrupted, but Dawn didn't care, and to thank him she turned her head in his hand so that she could kiss it.

"But somehow you managed to regain the abilities of your character, do you know how that happened?"

While she didn't really wanted to talk about it, the urge not to disappoint him was greater. "It had something to do with how Kirika was an actual character. And then our minds merged when…" Dawn suddenly trailed of as she was reminded of her reason for hating people like the man.

"Oh yes, the unfortunate incident with your mother and sister. I'm truly sorry to hear about that." Ahhh, that was so kind of him. Of course, he hadn't been able to do anything about it, and realistically she understood that he couldn't have done anything, anyway. It had been a mission, and she had orphaned her own fair share of children. So, it really was a bit ridiculous of her to remain so angry about a business transaction.

The man continued speaking however. "I would really have liked to meet them, you know. While I doubt they could possibly be as beautiful as you, they must have been impressive merely because of their relationship to you."

Dawn threw a wide smile at him. "You really say the nicest things, you know."

He smiled back, while using his hand to once again caress her face. "Only for you, my beautiful little assassin. Tell me, what would you think about joining the Order? I'm sure I could convince my bosses that we'd make a great team."

While her first reaction to the thought of joining the Order had been one of disgust, and disapproval, the possibility of being partnered with him was wonderful. "Together? Always?"

A slightly regretful look appeared on his face, and she feared for what he might say. "Maybe not at first. You'd probably have to undergo some of the basic tests and training first."

Training? What would she need that for? Oh, probably because they had some silly rules she'd have to follow. Well, if it meant staying with him she was more than willing to put up with that. But that still left… "What kind of tests?"

"Nothing major, there are just some things that we would like to know that might be useful later."

Okay, that didn't sound so bad. "I think I'd love to."

This time the smile that graced his handsome face was one of obvious joy and her heart fluttered at how it made him look even better than he had before. "Really? You'd do it? For me?"

She ducked her head so he wouldn't see the blush that once again adorned her face. "Yes, for you."

Raising her head he looked at her with a slightly toned down smile, but it still made her want to look away. "Don't hide. I think you're beautiful when you blush."

Oh gods, she could feel her cheeks heat up even further when he said that. "Don't lie."

"I'm not lying, it's the truth. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth, just like they say in an American courtroom. A room, I'd like to add, you'll never need to visit now that you're one of us."

Already? "You mean all it needed was for me to say it?" The surprise she felt had to evident in her face, because he smiled before explaining.

"No, not entirely. Like I said before, there are a couple of things that you still need to do, but I'm certain you'll set a new record for how fast you'll be accepted."

"And then we can be together?" Dawn asked timidly.

The smile that had never left his face, once again broadened. "And then we can be together."

Not bothering to hide her joy at that prospect she threw her arms around him, and started to kiss his face. He tried to stop her from doing so, but his attempts were half-hearted and only succeeded in removing the weapons she didn't need anyway. Somehow she had ended up on his lap, and she had to admit that she rather liked it there. Oh, he was trying to remove her harness. Well, that was impossible while her hands were busy, so she stopped her onslaught for a moment and sat straight up so that he could take it off her. "I've been so looking forward to this," he murmured while he did that.

"Really? I'm honored," she breathed back, only waiting until the harness was no longer restricting her arms before attacking him once again.

"Ah! Yes, that feels good," he sighed in reaction to the kisses she was now bestowing on his neck. Well, if that was how he reacted to something like that, she wondered how he'd respond to her using her teeth. Now wanting to wonder for long, she quickly moved to find out and from the reaction she got it was obviously well-received.

"Like that, don't you?" Dawn smirked at him when she took a short break.

The man no longer looked as neat as he had when she entered, instead his clothes rather disheveled by now. And while she liked the look, what she really wanted to know was what would be beneath them. "Definitely."

A thought occurred to her then, and she felt the need to ask it. "Why did you come here anyway?"

The adoring smile already told her most of the answer before he even opened his mouth, causing her to feel even more special. "I came for you, I'd heard about you and decided to come looking for you. It took a long time, but in the end I managed to find this place. And I knew that you'd come here, so I waited until you'd arrive."

How sweet! Not waiting another moment she kissed his forehead. "I love you."

"I know." Oh goody! He liked Star Wars! As a reward for his good taste in movies she moved so that she could kiss the tip of his nose.

"Tease."

"Maybe, but you like it."

She giggled at that. "Maybe."

"Now who's teasing who?"

Immediately she was contrite about doing so. Or at least pretended as if she was. "I'm sorry. Why don't you let me make it up to you?"

"And how would you do that?" he asked, and as he couldn't possibly have missed the mischievous glint in her eyes he was smiling broadly.

"Well… We are still wearing our clothes, and I think we could have so much more fun if we got rid of them. It's warm outside, so we could lie down on the grass, or we might look for a bed inside?"

"There's no bed inside that hasn't fallen apart years ago. But the other suggestion sounds great. But would you mind doing me a favor first?"

Another one? No, she shouldn't be thinking bad thoughts like that. He'd offered her a future, she should be grateful. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm pretty sure that you love me, but could you maybe prove it by telling me something you haven't told anyone else? Something you don't want anyone to know?"

Instead of answering the question she assaulted his lips for the first time, putting hers against them. And when he opened his mouth in reciprocation, she sent her tongue on a quest to discover what he tasted like. The wine they had been drinking was there, but the dominant taste was that of himself, and there was absolutely no taste of cigarettes whatsoever. "Wasn't that proof enough?" Dawn breathed once they'd disengaged.

"Wow." He shook his head as if to wake up out of a doze. "That was certainly something, but I'd really rather have the answer."

"Spoilsport," she pouted. He hadn't tasted like cigarettes, why was that important? Yes, why was that important? She should enjoy him, answer the question and take him outside. "Are you sure I can't convince you otherwise?"

"Dawn…" he said in a slightly more menacing tone, and she felt a shiver of delight go through her body at the more dominant behavior he was suddenly exhibiting. But he hadn't tasted like cigarettes.

What was it with those cigarettes? She didn't like them, shouldn't she be happy he didn't smoke, and move on? "Oh alright, I have a-" Wait a minute. He didn't smoke?

"I have-" This time she was reminded of the cigarettes even sooner. Why couldn't she simply answer the damned question, once that was done she could have her wicked way with him. As a prelude to the wonderful years that were to come. "I-"

"Yes?" he demanded. But this time when she looked at him she could see a sudden stiffness in his behavior. What was his problem? No, what was her problem? Why did she keep focusing on those damned cigarettes?

And then it suddenly hit her, once again she saw the cigarette but lying on the ground next to the door. If he didn't smoke… "You lied." And if he'd lied about that…

"Dawnie? Love?" the man tried to salvage the situation, but it was almost as if the sudden realization had thrown a switch in her mind. Her behavior didn't make any sense.

Why had she suddenly agreed to drink with him? How come she had suddenly been so attracted to him? The realization hit her hard, it was suddenly there and she reacted without thinking at the intrusion of her mind. Her hands, that moments before had been lovingly cradling his face, suddenly turned back into what they really were. Weapons honed to perfection. Her grip firmed and with a powerful twist she snapped his neck, ending the magic user's sorry excuse for a life.

"NOOO!"

The scream of despair came from behind her, and Dawn didn't wait even a moment before diving from the corpse's lap and behind the relative cover of the table. Not a moment too soon either, as a pressure wave toppled the chair they had been sitting on. Another damned magic user! Wasn't it enough for her to be abused by one of them?

"I will kill you for that, you insignificant little bitch!" Wow, this girl had serious problems didn't she? How could anyone be so desperate about seeing that guy die? On the other, she suddenly realized, five minutes ago she would have tried to kill anyone who'd want to do him harm as well.

In other words, whoever her opponent was, she had probably been seduced the same way she had. But hadn't had the strength of will to break free. Making a break for the passage that led deeper into the Manor, Dawn did admit that she wouldn't have had the strength of will either, if it hadn't been for the cigarette. Well, she thought while another shock wave impacted the wall behind her, at least now she knew who did smoke.

"How dare you kill him!" Man, she really didn't know when to quit, did she? And all of that because she'd killed a mind rapist, whose name she still didn't know. Oh well, she shrugged while diving into a room with several high pillars, at least it had reminded her that she wasn't completely done yet. There was one other enemy that needed to be destroyed before she could really stop killing.

And talking of killing, why had she allowed that bastard to strip her of all weapons. Now did she not only feel dirty where he had touched her, she was defenseless as well. Or was she? She hadn't remembered it while she was with the bastard, which was probably the reason he hadn't taken that away either, but when she moved her hand to her back she did indeed feel the small gun hidden there.

Now it was a last resort weapon, but back when anything larger hadn't fitted in her hands, the Glock 26 had been her first gun. And while this wasn't the original—that one had been lost over the years—it was still a weapon she was very familiar with. Taking it out, Dawn hid behind a pillar. It was unlikely that the witch, or whatever, would be able to take out something this big with one spell but a single shot would be all that she'd need.

If there had actually been a door, Dawn was pretty certain that the witch would have blown it to tiny bits when she entered the room, and indeed a shock wave preceded the woman. "WHERE ARE YOU! Come out and face me, you bitch!" The language that the woman used was truly shocking, Dawn thought while shaking her head in disapproval. Of course, once upon a time she might have said similar things, but during the past couple of years she had managed to tone it down.

Suddenly she could feel the pressure building in the room. She was about to turn around the column she was hiding behind to shoot the target, when the column next to her suddenly burst apart. Oh. That wasn't good, she thought while immediately freezing.

"One down. Five to go," the witch said, and this time the tone was no longer one that belonged to a half-crazed woman. Powerful witch + sanity + angry at her bad. See? Math was useful for things, although she had a feeling poor mister Grainsworth would have been shocked to know what she used it for.

No doubt the witch was paying attention to all the columns that were still standing and if she showed where she was… Well let's just say that Noir would probably be present in the Manor for a long time, a lot of Noir, liquid Noir.

Uh oh. She suddenly realized her pillar was next in line to be destroyed. Quickly she let herself slide to the ground, but even then it was almost too late. The witch destroyed the column by simply blowing away everything between about the height of Dawn's knees and head. And for now the roof held up the upper parts, but she doubted that would last long. That however, was not an immediate concern so she could forget about it.

Making herself as small as possible Dawn hid behind the tiny portion of the pillar that she hoped would survive the onslaught. When the rest flew over her though, it scratched her back badly, destroying her clothes and leaving a deep wound. She did her best not to cry out from the sudden pain, something that wasn't made easier by the gristle that made its way into her wound. But she had survived, and as far as wounds went, she'd had worse. At least this wasn't immediately life-threatening.

"And that makes two! You can't hide much longer, you little wannabe assassin." Wannabe? Now that was insulting, only one of them was a wannabe anything, and it wasn't her.

But the fact that the witch believed that she was hiding behind one of the other columns was useful. It meant that she wouldn't pay as much attention to this one. All she had to do now, was wait for the chance to strike. Once more did she feel the pressure rising, and the same moment that the pillar on her right was blown up did she roll out from behind her pillar. Not paying any attention to the destruction of that pillar, Dawn was completely focused on the witch.

She was blond, pretty, but looked older than the man had. But maybe that had been a good application of glamour. It wasn't long before the witch noticed her, but her way of fighting obviously needed some time between shots. Time she would never have. The witch's mouth was half open, probably to shout another challenge, when a single nine millimeter bullet destroyed her brain.

Once more Dawn stopped the car at the center of the small village. And once more the first thing she did after getting out was to walk to the monument. Stepping inside she felt behind the statue, until she held the watch she'd been looking for. It seemed that people would continue to hunt her no matter what she did, and if they wanted to play, who was she to deny them that pleasure?

The two rings that were now in her pocket proved that she was still capable of defeating Terakans, but the memory of her initial failure told her that she could never let her guard down either. Aside from the assassins, there was still the other enemy. Magic. Filthy magic, the stuff that destroyed lives. That changed people against their will, took them from what little peace they had found, and turned them into something else.

For far too long now she had allowed others to determine her actions, always had she been reacting to the events around her. But no more. She would not allow that to continue any longer. Her life was hers to determine. And anyone standing in her way would be removed from that path, no exceptions.

With this new determination in her heart, she walked back into the village. Where was everybody? That morning the streets hadn't exactly been busy, but now she didn't see anyone. Instead of trying to figure it out for herself though, she walked to the croissanterie. Only this time it wasn't a merry group of people waiting for her inside.

They were the same men, which was a bit strange since she'd expected them to have gone back to work by now. Or maybe they were back already, she wasn't entirely certain how long she'd been at the Manor. But the thing that she noticed most was the sad look each of them wore.

"What's going on?"

They hadn't even noticed her entrance, and when they looked at her, their face blanched. "Oh Dawn, we're so sorry."

"What? Why?" They didn't have anything to do with the Terakans, did they? No, that couldn't be.

"We only heard about it after you'd left. Why didn't you tell us?"

What were they talking about? When she asked that, they seemed surprised, but it wasn't long before one of them, Jacques, explained. "I'm sorry, belle, we thought you already knew. Otherwise we would have tried to break the news more gently."

Break the news? What had happened? "What's happened?"

"You must understand, we don't have a lot of contact with the outside world. Aside from the mailman there aren't many outsiders that visit us. We live a bit out of the way, I suppose."

"Jacques, I don't blame you for not knowing earlier, but what's happened?"

"Oh Dawn, it's terrible. Merde," he cursed before composing himself, "there were terrorists, they exploded a nuclear bomb above the ocean."

"EMP," Dawn whispered in sudden understanding. The actual damage depended on a huge number of factors but the effects were obvious. "Where, and how much has been affected?"

"The Atlantic, the entire American east coast. There was even some effect here in France, but not like there. It must have been terrible there, thousands probably died when it happened, elevators that no longer worked, trapping people eighty floors up. Airplanes that crashed into the ocean." He shook his head in obvious disbelief that anyone could do something that gruesome. "Maybe the rumors have been exaggerated, but I don't doubt there will have been many casualties."

The States, for a moment she felt relief that at least her beloved Paris had been saved from the worst of the attack, a relief that was immediately replaced by disgust at that same relief. How could she be happy when so many had died needlessly? No, this was incredible. Without thinking she sat down on one of the chairs, only to immediately stand back up as she screwed her face at the sudden agony.

"Dawn? What's wrong?" The men wanted to know, while coming over to her. But it was only when one of them, she wasn't certain who, stood behind her and noticed the fresh blood that had managed to seep through the bandage. "You're bleeding."

"It's nothing."

"Nothing? That isn't nothing. Thierry, go fetch Amanda, she'll know what to do."

"I don't need help." The disapproving looks from the men told her that she didn't have a choice about it, and when Véronique joined them, she didn't stand a chance at all.

And so it wasn't long before she found herself naked, lying stretched out on a bed, and staring at the wall in front of her, while some strange woman was stitching her back. "How did you manage to do this?"

"A rock fell on me, and I wasn't fast enough to evade it."

"But you did clean the wound."

"There was a pond, I went swimming."

There was a moment of silence where Amanda was concentrating on her job, before she spoke up again. "Yes, I can see that you're used to dealing with wounds."

That comment was enough to tense her up, of course the woman had seen the other scars, it was impossible not to. "I lived in a dangerous part of the city."

"Of course you did, dear. Now don't be so tense, that will only aggravate the wound."

She wasn't entirely certain that the woman had believed her, but as long as she didn't give her any more trouble that didn't matter anyway. She hadn't wanted anything resembling an anesthetic, so whenever Amanda pricked her skin she could feel it clearly. So in an effort not to notice the pain too much, she focused on other things. A focus that was so complete that she didn't even noticed when Véronique entered the room.

"Are you done?"

"Almost, why?" Amanda answered.

"I need to talk to Dawn for a moment."

That didn't sound very good. What could she possibly want right now? "Well, if you give me a second I'll tie this and she'll be all yours." The strange feeling at her back continued for a moment longer, until Amanda spoke up again. "There, all done."

Unselfconsciously Dawn sat up, exposing her breasts for all to see, but as there were only women in the room she didn't even think about covering herself up. Well, not before accepting her clothes from the owner of the croissanterie. "Thanks for cleaning them."

"You're welcome," was the answer, but Dawn didn't really hear it. All her attention was suddenly focused on the items the woman was still holding in her hands. She didn't have any weapons on her, but she was sure that she could kill the two of them with her bare hands. "Don't, please. We mean you no harm."

She wasn't sure what the woman knew, although it was obviously too much, but for now she decided against taking any action. She didn't speak either though, if the woman wanted to live she had to do so on her own merits.

"You are her, aren't you?"

Yes, but that didn't mean she was going to admit it.

"We knew that you'd come."

Okay, this was far too familiar. That's what Tristan had said back then. No way was it coincidence if the same sentence was spoken in the same village on different worlds. But she still refused to open her mouth.

"The Manor is the one where you were trained isn't it? Not on this world perhaps, but on your own."

They really knew too much, how could she possibly let them live?

"I understand that you don't have any reason to trust us, but if you're going to live in the Manor, we can help you."

Live in the manor? She didn't want to… although there were possibilities there.

"We know you must be good if you managed to kill two Terakans. If we'd known they were at the Manor the men would never have sent you there. But we believed it necessary for you to go to the Manor. And now that you've accepted who you are, we want to help."

"Help with what?"

"Destroy the Terakans, change the world for the better. We might not be the Soldats that you remember living in this village, but we're not all that different from them either."

* * *

Post-fic comments: A little early because I'm away for the weekend, but I'm sure you won't mind.  
I've heard rumors that reviews are good for the soul, why don't you see if it's true? 

Thank you Bob from Accounting for your review. And while it might sound a bit conceited I actually feel the same way about the lack of reviews.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_June 14, 2021_

Another morning comes with another conversation, Samantha thought as she entered the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. Unlike the day before however, her friend had already arrived and was busy reading the newspaper. "Anything interesting?"

While most people would have had the decency to look surprised by her sudden appearance, Dawn didn't. But then again, she always seemed to know where everyone was. "Not much, although the corpses have been found."

"Corpses? What are you talking about?" Samantha demanded, while trying to look over the woman's shoulder.

"The vampires and demons didn't have the decency to be quiet last night. I think they wanted to catch Noir," Dawn answered, sounding angry.

Hmm, she didn't much like those creatures but if they tried to hunt Noir they couldn't be all bad, now could they? No, there was no excuse for those abominations. Dawn's reaction on the other hand seemed a bit out of character. "What are you talking about?"

"The people that died were arms dealers, or, in some cases, wannabe arms dealers. Noir had probably contacted them for weapons, but the vampires got there first."

"How do you know it wasn't Noir who killed them? I wouldn't be surprised if she did that. Hah! I don't think there's anything she could do that would surprise me."

A short laugh escaped from Dawn's mouth after hearing that. "I kinda doubt that. In fact, I've got a feeling that there's a lot about Noir that would surprise you."

With a very unladylike snort Samantha gave her opinion on that. "Some base born killer, surprise me? Now, that's something that I doubt. And besides, when did you suddenly become the expert on assassins? When I first mentioned her, you didn't seem to know anything about her."

"Why don't you sit down? We'll talk a bit more once you're comfortable."

What was this? Why did Dawn suddenly want her to sit down as if she was about to impart some great secret? Especially when she'd just asked about Noir. Whatever the reason was for her friend to direct her to a chair, she decided she might as well do so. So, walking around the table she moved a chair backwards and sat down, before asking her question. "Alright, what is it that you want to talk about?"

Instead of answering the question though, Dawn looked around the kitchen before asking a question of her own. "Why haven't you ever hired a cook? Wouldn't that be a lot easier?"

"I did hire the catering for the party yesterday." Samantha answered, slightly bemused by the sudden appearance of such a strange question.

"Yeah, yesterday," Dawn waved with her hand to illustrate her point, "but that was for a party. What I mean is, why don't you ever do so during the rest of the time?"

The question was actually a bit insulting, but for the moment she decided not to take offense. "I like to cook. Why? Didn't you like what we had the day before yesterday?"

"Well yes, but you didn't make that did you? We were sparring until just before dinner." Dawn seemed a bit bewildered by her question.

"Actually, I had it prepared even before you came. The servants only had to put it in the oven and all that."

"Oh, sorry."

The crestfallen look on Dawn's face was almost enough to squash the smirk that crept on her own face, but Samantha knew it was a futile effort to keep it away. That didn't mean she couldn't quickly change the subject though. "But I kinda doubt that's what you wanted to talk about. So spill."

"You really like to cook?" Alright, it seemed as if Dawn wasn't quite ready to give up on that after all.

"Yes. I like cooking. And besides, it just, you know, feels satisfying when I get down to eat something I made myself."

"If you say so. Anyway," Dawn shaking her head in bewilderment before once again changing the subject. "You were asking 'bout the dead people."

"Among other things, yes."

"Okay, now it's like this. I was a bit worked up last night, and decided to go for a stroll."

Samantha raised her hand to stop her friend from continuing. "Hold on, you mean to tell me that you decided to take a walk through Seattle, in the middle of the night?"

A shrug was all the answer she needed, but Dawn confirmed it verbally as well. "Yeah."

It really shouldn't surprise her, especially since she was the one who told Dawn that it was probably safe to do so. But she just knew what was going to come next. Closing her eyes in near despair she quietly asked the question that would confirm her suspicions. "You left this sector, didn't you?"

"Of course, I've already seen everything here. You know that. Besides, there's nothing here but rich people, like you. And well, that's kinda boring."

This time her eyes flew open, but before she could say anything about that comment she noticed the smirk on Dawn's face. Damn that woman! Why did she have to treat everything like a game? "Ha, ha. Very funny."

"Thanks." Argh! Not even sarcasm seemed to work. 'Okay, calm down, don't let her get to you.'

A couple of deep breathes was all Samantha needed to regain her earlier calm, and quickly went back to asking questions. "How did you leave the sector anyway? I didn't know you've got a sector pass."

"I don't. Oh, I could easily get one of course, but I didn't need one anyway."

"They let you through?" This time Samantha didn't even try to hide the tone of incredulity in her voice. "The guards never let anyone through. Hell, that's what we pay them for."

"You mean you bribe the guards?"

"Stop playing games Dawn, you'd do the very same thing so there's no need to pretend to be innocent."

"Oh alright, spoilsport."

"It's way to early for this," Samantha said while starting to rub her head, all this nonsense was starting to give her a headache, "why don't you just tell me what you wanted to tell me and let me eat? I'm getting hungry here."

"Sure," Dawn shrugged, not at all bothered by all this, "to tell you the truth there isn't all that much to say. It basically comes down to the fact that when I was walking I happened across that little scene. Or one of them at least."

"Sorry?"

"I saw the vamps. Well, not so much the vamps as what they had done. Even if they hadn't still been there I would've been pretty sure that it was their kind that'd done it."

See? She knew that her guest had gotten herself into trouble, she always did that. And looking closer at Dawn, Samantha also noticed a faint discoloring around her throat. It had been mostly covered up by make-up, but not even that could hide the fact that the trouble had been greater than she'd first believed. "Is that how you got that nice bruise as well?" Maybe that would help her understand the dangers of her actions!

But once again, Dawn seemed unfazed and only raised her hands to her throat. "Don't be ridiculous, do you really think I would have survived if a vampire had done this?"

The response was the right one, even the tone, and Dawn's behavior fit perfectly. But still there was something niggling at the back of Samantha's mind. There was something off about this situation, and she simply couldn't think of what it was. "Then how?"

"How did I get it? I didn't say that nobody tried to attack me, it just wasn't a vampire."

"A mugger? Somebody tried to mug you?" Suspicions forgotten, Samantha rose from her chair in indignation. How dare some low-life, two-bit, scum of the earth attack one of her friends?

A heavy sigh came from Dawn then, drawing her attention back to her friend. "Sit down Samantha, it's been taken care off."

"Taken care off?"

"He has learned the error of his ways."

She was in quandary now, she knew about the muggers in this city. And they weren't the kind that would be stopped by threats alone. She also knew that it was unlikely Dawn would have resorted to violence, which meant that someone else would have helped her. Did she want to know who that was?

In the end she decided against it. If Dawn had wanted her to know about the rescuer she would have mentioned him, or her. Most likely it was a criminal as well, and maybe he'd gone a bit overboard. No, in this case plausible deniability very much had its place.

"Alright, I hope you didn't hurt him too much, but I won't ask about it. But everything you've told me so far didn't tell me anything about your sudden knowledge about Noir."

Once again Dawn almost looked uncomfortable. Hah, her friend had probably hoped that she'd forgotten about that. "There isn't really that much to tell," Dawn hedged.

"Don't even try that. You were about to reveal some kind of big secret before you started talking about your little excursion last night, and I want an answer to that."

"Oh alright. I spoke to some of my people yesterday, and Noir came up as well. In particular we spoke of the way she acquires her weapons."

Well, it sounded completely logical and she had no doubt that it was the truth, but still… something seemed to be missing from the explanation. The expression on Dawn's face told her that she wouldn't be able to get anything more from her now. Which meant she needed to catch her friend off guard, and there was a very easy way to do so. "So, what are your plans for the day? I was thinking we might go shopping together, have a nice easy day after last night's party?"

"I'd love to, but I really can't. I only managed to do some scouting yesterday and I had planned on approaching some people today."

Samantha couldn't stop the disappointment from showing on her face. Not that she really tried, after all she had been looking forward to spending some time alone with Dawn even before she decided on trying to grill her for information. And if a little guilt trip would make her reconsider… "Are you sure? We could have so much more fun than you will if you're talking about acquisitions and such. Besides, I thought you'd already discussed things with Victor."

A tiny smile showed on the other's face. "Somehow I have a feeling that his ideas have changed by now. Besides, he was only interested in my French interests."

Instead of immediately trying to convince Dawn to do otherwise, Samantha got up to make herself some breakfast first. Once that was done however she spent her entire breakfast subtly trying to convince her friend how much better it would be if the two of them would go out for a bit of fun.

Unfortunately, in the end all her efforts were wasted and she had to watch as Dawn took a briefcase while going out to do her thing. Damn, now she had to wait until the evening before she could try again.

X.X.X

The sun had risen several hours ago already, but for once the inhabitants of the abandoned building that Carlos had chosen for his base showed no sign of going to sleep. Not that they were happy about staying awake, but there was trouble brewing and they all wanted to steer clear of it. The contingent of vampires and demons that had been sent out during the night had returned without their price, and to make matters worse not even all of them had returned. All of this served one purpose, to anger the master vampire.

"I don't believe this!" Carlos roared at the cowering vampires before him. "That, that, that bitch!"

Even in his towering rage, he noticed with some satisfaction that the beings before him were at least still afraid of him. Respected him. "How could she do this to me? Doesn't she understand what I'm offering her? And you! Why are you looking so smug?" That last sentence was directed at Brooks, who he only now noticed was trying to hide a satisfied smile.

Some nervousness was present in the fledgling's voice as he spoke, but not nearly the amount it was supposed to contain. And not only that, he seemed to have treated it as some sort of competition, one that he'd just won. "Well boss man, I don't mean to say I told you so. But I, ah, actually did."

While his anger soared to new heights, and his narrowed eyes felt as if they could be used to kill, Carlos knew that the little nothing was right. Most importantly, he was still too useful to kill. Not that he would admit an error or anything, but that didn't stop the noob from gloating. "And why were you so convinced that a dozen vampires, and six demons, eighteen of my best men! Would not be enough?"

"I've seen it before. Do you really think we were that inefficient? The first time we caught up with her she was practically unarmed and still managed to kill nine of our people. And don't say they were only human. The agents she killed were professionals, each and every one of them trained far better than the ragtag you send last night."

We? Our? It was obvious the fool hadn't yet realized that he wasn't a member of that team anymore. He belonged to him, and was very low on the pecking order there as well. Nonetheless, Carlos recognized the truth in Brooks' words. The past months had after all shown him that not all government employees were weaklings. Just take that NSA guy White for example. Now that was one ruthless human, actually exposing the barcodes to the public so that he could go and hunt them. And from what little Brooks had told him about that Mansfield who had headed the search for the Soldier Hunter, and later the early years of hunting Noir, he was just as ruthless. Both men he would love to have at his command, after all if they were like that as a human how would they be as a superior species?

But all that didn't stop him from being bothered by the events of the night before. He had been anxious to see his men return with their prisoner, and in preparation he'd spent most of the night coming up with things to convince Noir why she should join him. Not that he'd made all that much progress though. Even thinking of that made him frown, an act that, he noticed with satisfaction, actually seemed to scare Brooks. But every single idea he'd come up with during the night had ended with her staking him. And that wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

Had he been wrong about wanting to turn her? Surely he ought to be able to control a mere woman? Not that it mattered right now, or for the foreseeable future. As long as he didn't have her he couldn't discuss these things with her. But he should've had her last night! How could she have seen through the traps, why had she ignored three of the meeting spots and massacred the fourth?

She must have known that she was facing vampires, there was no other way she could've fought that effectively. Unfortunately that begged another question. How had she known? Slayers were able to sense vampires, and even a witch could cast a detection spell of some sort, but Noir was neither. Despite her exceptional skills she was still a normal human being. It wasn't exactly an easy question to answer. And as he didn't feel like wasting precious time thinking of something that someone else might already know, Carlos decided to lower himself and ask his resident expert.

"Hey, I didn't even know much about the supernatural until you turned me, remember? Only some of the basics that had been covered during the training." Brooks asked. "But if you ask me, I'd say she saw them using some kind of scanner. She has always used electronics, in fact we even discovered a destroyed digital camera during the Greenville operation. So she probably used some kind of night vision equipment to check the site for danger.

"How she found out that it was vampires she was facing is something I can only guess at. Maybe your people were sloppy when they killed the dealers, or she checked for body heat. I don't know what she can do with her equipment."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Carlos roared while once again rising from his seat. "You're someone that hunts her, aren't you?"

"Hunted, past tense. After all I can hardly turn up for work like this, now can I? And besides, pfft," Brooks waved a bit with his arm to show his opinion about this subject, "I crawled data, not mud. Other people were all gung-ho about her weapons, tools, and shit like that. That's what you do in a team after all, everybody works on what he's best at."

His eyes narrowing again, Carlos stared at the fool in front of him. Did he really think he'd get away with challenging his authority like that? He might be useful for now, but once Noir had been taken… Well, he was pretty certain that his future queen would love to spend some time with the young vampire. Yes, that would be a nice start for cementing a lasting relationship with the assassin. How could she possibly resist the opportunity to torture and kill one of the people that had hunted her for so long?

X.X.X

"This ain't fair," Max pouted. She knew it wasn't really fair of her to complain to her friends either, but in this case she opted for spreading the misery.

Alec gave her a look that clearly conveyed his opinion about the whining. "I know it's not fair Max, but you have to remain here for a while. Noir can't possibly get inside here, without us noticing, so she's sure to be waiting outside for you."

"Oh come on. If the cops and National Guard can't spot me, what makes you think a single person can? You make her out to be superman or something."

"She might only be human but that doesn't mean you should underestimate her. After all, you know that neither the cops nor the National Guard would try to kill you on sight, while she would."

She snorted at that. "As if she'd succeed; the woman's as human as Normal. Why do you keep making her be more than she is?"

Instead of answering her, Alec turned his head to the other occupant of the room. "Mole, can you try to pound some sense into her? I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

"The girl doesn't want to know. I'd say to let her out, but right now we can't afford to lose her," the lizard-faced man answered after taking his cigar out of his mouth.

"Thanks for being so useful," Alec bit back.

"Hey kid, relax. I'm as worried about the situation as you are, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to try and convince her of it."

Why did they keep doing this? Sure, from what she'd been told the woman was dangerous, but so was she. And, no matter how much she hated the place, Manticore had done a good job. So, before they could continue trying to blame each other for her lack of response, Max spoke up. "Will both of you relax? I've already agreed to stay here, haven't I? I may not agree with it, but for once I'm acting like the good little soldier I was bred to be, and follow orders."

"Why are you making such a fuss out of it anyway?" Alec wanted to know, "it's not like you haven't spend most of your time here."

"I don't like to hide from anyone, I've done enough of that. Besides, I feel locked up. I'm not allowed to go outside the perimeter, nor even go near the fence. I'm always under escort," she indicated the two of them who were after all with her for that very purpose, "and nobody wants to hear my opinion about all that. God, it's almost as if I'm back at Manticore." There. She'd said it, and they could take it anyway they wanted to.

"That's your problem? You feel like we took your choices away? We're an army sister. In case you've been away for too long, that means our decisions are always based on circumstances, not choice." The gruff words spoken by Mole once again showed the wide gap between them that existed despite everything. She had been away from Manticore for over twelve years now and had lived most of that time the way she wanted to. He, on the other hand, had been freed less than a year ago and had immediately landed in yet another war. The only difference being that this time around he didn't fight for the country that had created him, but for his own life.

Convincing him of the rightness of her opinion would therefore be useless, and seeing the look on Alec's face she realized he wouldn't be of any help either. Even back at Manticore, Alec had a kind of freedom. The casual way with which he'd spoken, and even bribed, the guards had shown her that on their first meeting. No, he wouldn't understand either. Ben would have, but no matter how much he looked like him Alec wasn't the boy who'd prayed to the Blue Lady.

"Whateffah," she therefore waived her own concerns away. Maybe she could complain to someone else later on. But who? The only one of her friends that was actually here was Joshua, and complaining to him about not being able to leave was simply too hypocritical. After all, she was the one who'd kept him locked up in Sandeman's house. And while Logan might come here, he was the reason she actually found herself in this situation. If he hadn't come with that ridiculous warning she might've been riding her bike now, or at least been doing something that didn't require guards. "Alright then, if there's no way that I can convince the two of you to let me go out, or leave me so I can sneak out, we'd better come up with something else."

The weary look the two shot at each other might have been funny in any other situation, this time she simply felt they deserved it. "And what would that something else be?" Alec asked with a hint of trepidation in his voice.

"Why," she beamed at him, "I thought that would be obvious. It's time for entertaining Max."

Neither of the men could hide their surprise at this, and they were rather vocal about their opinion as well. "What? You want the two of us to dress up like a couple of clowns an' throw pies at each other?" That was Mole's idea, and for a moment she actually considered it. Or a variant of it actually, it would be far more fun if she'd do the throwing.

"Well… now that you mention it. That actually does sound like a good idea."

"Unh-unh, Max. There's no way that I'll dress up like some kind of idiot just so I can get pasted with cream."

"Oh come on Alec, it would be fun. And besides, it could be worse."

"Really? What could possibly be worse than that?" the horrified X-5 asked.

Hmm, good question actually. What could she possibly say to that? Oh, of course. Long live technology. "I could record it and send it to the president as proof that we couldn't possibly be a danger to him?"

The look on his face was priceless, and Max had to do her best to appear serious, something that obviously failed when Alec sighed in relief. "Damn it Max, don't make jokes like that, you scared the hell outta me for a moment there." Shame, he'd figured it out.

"Yeah well, I'm still getting bored here."

"There's a lot that needs to be done," Mole spoke up. "You're the leader, that means you get to deal with all of the boring stuff, while I simply get to shoot things."

Right, administration and stuff like that. For a group that didn't really do any paperwork she sure had to deal with a lot of it. "I've been doing that for a coupl'a weeks now. I'd been planning on taking some days off, but then Logan came with his wonderful warning and you guys locked me up."

Alec's answer was so full of sarcasm that even a deaf person would've recognized it. "Aahhh, I feel so sorry for you. 'Cause you know? There ain't much else you can do at the moment."

"Oh come on, there must be something. If I have to deal with all that nonsense for yet another day-"

"Well," Mole suddenly interrupted her, "the only thing I can think off is that you go and meet some of the new recruits."

"New recruits?" she wondered.

"You're not talking about those two are you?"

"Those two?" Mole growled. "And what do you mean by 'those two', pretty boy?"

"No offense man, but you'd be starring as a centerfold before I'd call them pretty."

"Just 'cause Manticore messed them up more than they did you, doesn't mean they're less worthy or anything."

"I know that." But even to Max' ears that came a bit too fast, however she couldn't really blame Alec. There were times where she had trouble accepting some of her fellow escapees as well. She did her best not be feel like that, but sometimes she wished Manticore had focused on the X series. "But there's just something off about them. I can't really say what it is that bothers me about them though. Maybe it's the way they just don't really seem to fit, or something, I don't really know."

Mole didn't seem like he planned on going easy on Alec for his earlier slip, but he too seemed to think there was something strange about the two. In other words, they sounded interesting and it might be a good idea to go meet them. "So, when did they arrive?"

"Two days ago? Is that about right?" Alec asked the other man, who seemed to agree with that assessment.

"That's about it yeah. I think they arrived a couple of hours before Logan gave his warning."

X.X.X

Jack was terrified, and if he'd known a better word to describe the incredible cold he felt all over his body, he would've used that. Unfortunately, he didn't. Once again he looked around the place he was now working. Working! That in and of itself was just plain ridiculous. He was a thief! He shouldn't go around having a job, that was the kind of thing his victims did. One of those circle of life things he'd heard about.

A man works for someone else, he gets paid for doing so. After that, he goes home gives the money to his wife, who puts it in her wallet for when she goes shopping. While she's shopping, Jack comes around and takes the wallet from her. That's how it's supposed to work, that way everybody is happy and he wouldn't have to work this menial job. Oh, he almost forgot. To prove that he's at the top of the food chain, he might as well follow the other path too.

Another man has someone working for him. He pays that man for his work, but that is only a small portion of the amount he actually makes. The rest of the money he takes with him to his house, where he tries to make Jack's life a bit more difficult by hiding it. Fortunately, he doesn't hide it well enough and Jack can go home with more loot than he would've gotten from that first guy.

Unfortunately, he doubted that same thing would count here. Not that he, and the other messengers, earned a lot of money, but that Normal guy didn't seem to be rolling in the dough either. Which was a shame, because he'd gotten quite fed up with the whole 'bip, bip, bip' thing. Robbing him would've been very satisfying. Of course, he knew that he could just as well try to steal money from the business itself, but that was where his fear came in.

Cops. After an entire life dedicated to the fine art of acquisition, Jack believed he'd gained something like a sixth sense when it came to the law. And it was crawling with them here. Every second messenger was a cop, one that was undercover at that. If he hated one thing, it was undercover cops.

Having a potential mark suddenly turn into someone that might arrest you was the nightmare of every pickpocket. People disappeared in the prisons, he was sure of it. As a kid he'd seen one of his friends get arrested, and the next day Bill had been gone. Gone! As if he'd never even existed. Careful informing had told him and the rest of their little group that he'd been sent to an orphanage, but he didn't believe it. They'd done something to him, they must've.

But back to the present. The constant presence of the cops had already convinced him that this was going to be his last day here. So far he'd had only one encounter with them, five minutes after getting hired one of them had 'accidentally' tripped him and pulled his collar down. The cop had apologized afterwards, claiming the obvious lie of an accident, but he knew what that guy had been looking for. You couldn't fool Jack like that.

No sirree, they'd been checking to see if he had a barcode. Naturally they hadn't found anything, but it meant that he'd made sure to avoid them as much as possible. Luckily that wasn't too hard. They never seemed to go out on a run, instead opting to simply remain where they were, waiting for that genetic chick to turn up. Right, as if she'd do that.

Anyway, that did mean he'd spent most of his time on a bike and hadn't gotten to know his colleagues very well. So when one of the suddenly called to him, he was rather surprised. "Hey kid!"

Man, did he hate it when they called him kid. He had a name, if he'd wanted to be called kid he'd have chosen that as a name. But from what little he'd seen of the goofy guy that called him, he probably meant it in a nice way. "Yeah?"

"You've gotta take a break y'know. Don't let Normal run you ragged, if you never demand a break you won't get it."

Well, that was obviously meant as good advice but if he was gonna rest he'd do it in the city, not among the cops. "Thanks for the advice, but I'm fine." And with that he turned to his bike, still holding the packages he'd collected from Normal.

"No man, you're not fine. Look, I don't mind you doing more deliveries than me but it wouldn't be good if you burned yourself out working too hard."

"We're here to do work, aren't we?" At least that was what he'd figured. Not that he hadn't noticed the slackers that were around, those that weren't cops pretending to be slackers that is, but he'd simply figured they were the rotten apples.

"'Course we are, but not too hard y'know. Look, let's be honest here. I've seen you looking at the dudes over there, and I think I understand at least part of your problem."

That sounded ominous. Jack took a step back so that he could have a better look at the man. It was obvious that underneath the whole stupid acting thing there was at least some glimmer of intelligence. This guy might not be as smart as some of the other people he'd encountered, but he wasn't the slowest kid on the block either. He didn't seem like a fellow thief though, so if he really understood the problem he must've had one for a friend. Oh wait, wasn't this guy one the genetic chick's friends?

"Right, well if you do. I'm sure you understand why I don't like to be here too much."

"True, but come on. You can hang with Original Cindy and myself while you're here."

That offer did actually sound tempting, but he wasn't sure if he should accept it. But it was that moment that Normal decided to interfere from the other side of the room. "Jack. You've been doing good up till now boy, don't waste that with hanging with that reprobate."

Well, that clinched it. If he wasn't going to steal anything from the man, he was sure as hell going to tweak his nose a bit. Ignoring Normal he therefore looked back at the guy, Sketchy he now remembered, and nodded. "Sure, sounds like fun."

"Great man. Come on, let's go talk to Original Cindy then."

Jack followed him until they reached the dark-skinned girl who greeted him with the same openness he'd noticed in Sketchy. It wasn't long before the three of them were deep into a more or less interesting conversation, when Sketchy suddenly asked the question he'd been dreading.

"Hey Jack, I've been wondering."

"About what?" Jack answered.

"How come you wanted to work here? This place hasn't exactly been very popular to work at since the whole thing with Max happened."

Great, what was he gonna answer to that? The truth wasn't exactly something he wanted to tell. Although he wondered how they'd react if he told them his boss had given him the choice between leaving and facing one of the most dangerous persons in the world. However, some truth in the story wouldn't hurt either, as long as he took care not to say too much that is. "Well, I don't really care about the whole transgenic thing. They look human, and to me that's enough."

The obvious agreement from the two before him confirmed his suspicions that these two were closer connected to that whole scene than the cops here probably believed. But that was fine with him, he hadn't lied about not really caring. In fact, if people were concentrating on the transgenics they wouldn't pay a lot of information to what he was doing. Which was always good.

"Right on, man," Sketchy said, "and now you needed some money and thought you might as well join us here as another of Normal's personal slaves."

"Something like that yeah." Despite the words it was obvious that Sketchy didn't mind Normal all that much. Jack didn't know if that was a recent event, caused by what had happened during the whole hostage deal he still knew depressingly little about, or if that respect had always been there. Somehow he found the latter a bit hard to believe.

It was Original Cindy who then spoke up. "You ain't casing any of the places, are you?"

"Casing? Me? What would I do that for?" Damn that woman, didn't she know you don't ask questions like that where anyone could overhear? Especially around the cops that were still paying attention to everything? He risked a glance back to see if any of them were paying attention to him, but it was reasonably obvious they considered him harmless. For now.

His new friends had seen his movement though, and were quick to comment. "Oh, don't worry about them. They're only interested to see if Max'll come here. Unless you'd steal their sandwiches or something. Anyway, I have a feeling that Normal'll fire them real soon."

"Why?" Not that he minded or anything, but he just didn't see the man throwing any cops out of his business. That was never a good thing.

"I don't know if he knows that they're secret agents, but aside from the fact that it would help Alec, he'll probably figure that he can't afford to pay people not doing anything," Sketchy tried to explain.

Right, he didn't know who this Alec was, and decided against asking, but there was something else in that sentence that surprised him. "Pay? You mean he's paying them?"

"Like the fool said, we're not sure if the man knows they're agents. 'Sides if he didn't he wouldn't want anyone to just stand around anyway. He'd probably figure that'd be bad for business."

"But why hasn't he sent them away then? Wouldn't it make more sense if he'd done that already?"

"True," Original Cindy conceded, "but this is Normal we're talking about, you shouldn't expect too much from him."

"Holy mama, she's back," Sketchy suddenly said, while staring at the entrance, causing the two of them to turn in that direction as well.

A heavy sigh came from Original Cindy before Jack even saw who it was. "I told you yesterday, she ain't for people like us. A woman like that? She figures she's too good for us."

By now Jack had turned around completely as well, and the shock of the sight caused him to grab hold of one of the cold metal lockers in an effort to retain his balance. She was here. Just like the boss had told him. Easy, calm, don't panic. He shouldn't be drawing any attention to himself.

"She's coming here." The excitement in the voice of his new-found friend was obvious, and forcing himself to look back at the dark-haired woman he saw that Sketchy was right. She was heading right for them. May God have mercy on their souls.

X.X.X

Walking to the _Jam Pony_, Dawn once again considered her life. The current situation and the situation she'd been in all those years ago when she had thought she looked forward to the end of the bloody chapter of it. The end that never came when she discovered that there would always be people hunting her, leaving her with only one option to defend herself. Take them out before they did it to her.

That day had really been full of shocking events. The Terakans had been followed by the discovery of the Pulse, something she still couldn't really understand how she'd missed that morning. Paying attention to the news had always been an important aspect of her missions, and the only reason she could come up with was that she'd been so anxious to find out the truth.

A truth that changed several times over the course of a single day. First she'd known that Noir and Soldats had never existed, then she'd doubted because of the Manor, and after killing the Terakans she'd been sure again of the knowledge that they didn't exist. Until Véronique dropped her little bomb.

Doubts had returned in that very instance. Who were these people really? What did they know? Why did they want to help her? And most of all, did she really have a place here?

A slight grin appeared on her face as she recalled the dumbfounded look she must've worn at that moment. Later the two of them had laughed about that moment, but by then she also knew that her friend had been terrified. Terrified that she'd dismiss the offer, and instead would kill them all. Terrified that she'd dismiss the offer, yet let them live.

That had surprised her most of all. That they wouldn't have a purpose in life if she didn't want them. What was so important about her that they'd dedicate their lives to her? She'd understood it from the Soldats who lived there in the other world, but these people weren't Soldats. They hadn't been brainwashed into praying to her, killing for her, living for her.

No, these people were something different. Except… they weren't. And once again it all came down to that filthy magic. Not that they actually told her that was the case, but when she later thought about it she knew. Apparently her sister wasn't the only Summers starring in prophecies. Even if she didn't know all the titles given to her, she recognized enough of them to realize it was true. 'Created to live as a Slayer's sister.' Rather vague in her opinion, and she didn't quite get the created part, but accurate enough.

'The Green Lady,' hadn't really come as a surprise. She'd done some research into that strange vampire who'd called her that and when she found out that she was some kind of psychic Dawn had accepted the name and moved on. But both of these names, while enabling her to recognize it was about her wouldn't have helped the villagers.

Instead they got names that fit her, but wouldn't have told her much. 'The new Lady.' She'd asked Jacques about that one, and he said it referred to the fact that she'd taken over the mansion from madame Claudine. Right, whatever. In her opinion that was simply reaching to make the damned prophecy fit better. But there were others that she did accept.

'The maiden with the black hands will come and clean her heritage.' Now that one was just plain creepy. And it had been that one that had set the villagers on her path. They'd read about her in a newspaper article, and had immediately collected money for a DVD player and the Noir DVDs. And watching these they'd soon figured out what was meant by her heritage.

Maybe if she hadn't used Noir as her working name she could've prevented all that nonsense. Shaking her head in the same wariness she always felt while thinking about this, Dawn chastised herself for thinking like that. Whining was useless, so she really should stop doing it. What was done, was done.

And to be honest, she didn't really regret any of it. Life might have been easier if it hadn't been for that prophecy constantly hanging over her head, but she'd decided to ignore it. While ignoring something like that might not make it go away, it did help her when she needed to pay attention to other things.

In the meantime, the villagers had helped her with many things and when after several years she was completely certain they could be trusted she had finally explained some of the prophecy to them. Which in itself she thought rather strange. When Buffy or Faith had a prophecy about them, it usually had to be explained to them. Not the other way around.

Luckily they'd been more than willing to believe her interpretation of the prophecy. Not that she'd expected anything else, she was right after all. The filthy murderers were indeed, as the villagers had already believed, the Terakans, but there were still some people that she'd identified that they weren't completely sure about. Until she'd explained how she'd gotten that information that is.

And naturally that thought led her to the information she'd acquired the previous night. The demon had been pretty resilient for a while, but the moment she started her interrogation Dawn had known that its resistance would eventually be broken. And once that moment came, words spilled out like water from the Niagara Falls. Words that actually managed to surprise her.

Upon finding out there were vampires and demons waiting for her, she had figured that someone was trying to kill her. Unfortunately, the truth was worse.

Some filthy little creature with delusions of grandeur wanted to turn her. Her! It was impossible to figure out what it could possibly think to achieve with that. Well, no it wasn't really impossible, as the demon had told her that too. But it didn't make any sense, at least not from a tactical point of view. What was it thinking?

Sure, if she would actually be turned the effects would be rather impressive for a while. Combining her training and a nearly invulnerable body couldn't possibly be a good thing for humanity, but it would be a lot of fun. Or would it? Thinking it over again she looked at the downsides, well the downsides other than losing her soul that is. She'd be nearly invulnerable. The typical weaknesses of vampires were things that she'd be able to cover and that would take away everything that made life challenging. It would be like using god-mode in a video game. Boring.

Well, there would be one engagement she'd be able to look forward too. Her backup plan for when something like that happened. It's just that she couldn't be certain that the demon wouldn't find out about that. They did after all take over their host's body, including the brain and the memories it contained.

Oh well, if everything went completely south she'd just have to trust that someone would be kind enough to throw a nuke in her direction. That might be a bit of overkill, but it would most likely work.

Stopping on the corner of the street leading to her destination, Dawn considered those last thoughts. Wow. Her ego had grown hadn't it? There were times when she figured a couple of thermobaric grenades would do. Even that ridiculous thought seemed to trigger a chuckle as she tried to imagine Mireille's look if she'd told her something like that.

Instead of letting herself fall back into the dangerous trap of memory recollection again, Dawn kept her mind on the here and now. Focusing on the elements always seemed to help in that respect, so she tried to feel the gentle breeze as it caressed her face, the warmth sent down by the wan-looking sun, and the street beneath her feet. Today was the day. Today she would do what she'd come to this little town to do. All the plans she'd made should be coming to fruition, leaving everybody with a different piece of the puzzle.

Telling people what she was about to do added a bit of extra risk, but was something she liked doing. Or should it be, and was something she liked doing? Like with so many other things these days she just couldn't make up her mind. The sleep deprivation probably didn't help in that regard either. Once again she hadn't been able to make use of the comfortable bed in her room. No! Focus!

She was standing outside of the building now, and could already see inside through the half-open door. This was it, the deciding moment. Her last chance for turning back and trying another way. But why should she? This might not be fail-proof, but it was good enough.

Stepping through the door opening, Dawn walked over to the manager, who upon seeing her quickly tried to change his appearance. Poor guy. She'd seen his type before, always trying too hard to make his business work the way it should. And always failing to reach the potential that was inherent in a place like this. It wasn't really his fault either, he just didn't have access to the resources that were needed for something like that. Maybe once her other business in Seattle was completed she would see about this little firm.

"Miss Summers, it's an honor to see you return here. I trust everything went well with your package?"

"Indeed mister Ronald. Everything went alright."

"That's wonderful to hear. Does this mean you've come for another delivery?"

For what she needed a carrot would be better than a stick, so she decided she might as well play into the man's dreams. "Not right now. I'm here on business actually. I'd like to come back in a couple of days to discuss the ownership of this business."

This seemed to puzzle the man. "The ownership of this business? I'm sorry but I don't think I understand what you mean."

"From what I've seen so far, this seems to be a well-run business, but it lacks the resources that would make it truly great. I however, do have those resources and I've been thinking about increasing my interests in the States." 'Hook.'

Now he got it. "You mean you'd like to buy Jam Pony?"

"And keep you as the manager. For now at least." She wondered how he'd react to that.

"What do you mean for now? I'm the one running this place." Good, he showed some spine.

"True, but if we do this right we should be able to open some additional offices. And in that case I'd need a regional manager. And who could possibly be better for a job like that than the man who's been managing this place for the past years?" 'Line.'

"Regional manager? That would be so, so. I hardly know what to say." And indeed the man seemed lost for words. Exactly the way she liked it.

"You don't need to say anything right now. I want you to think about it for a couple of days, and once I return we'll discuss it in more detail. For now however, I'd like to get an impression of the people working here. I want to talk to some of them, how about those two?" Dawn said while indicating the two reasons she'd come here.

"Those two? Are you sure you wouldn't rather-"

"Why? Is there something wrong with those two? Are you telling me that you're not good at deciding who needs to be hired?"

"Ah no, of course not. But those two…" All it required for him to trail off was a raised eyebrow. "Right, why not those two? I'll just go get them for you. You can use my office if you want." 'And sinker.'

X.X.X

"Oh, she went to Normal."

Original Cindy had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Of course the woman had gone for Normal, who else could possibly be of any importance to a stuck-up little bitch like that? "What did you expect? That she'd come here and declare her undying love for you?"

"Well, that would've been nice."

"Men," she sighed in despair. "Look at her fool. She's so full o' herself that there's probably no room for even a single thought in her brain."

"So? I don't really see a problem with that."

Okay, she had enough experience with Sketchy to know that she'd never win a discussion like this. He could only see what the woman looked like, and nothing more. At least Jack hadn't joined him. Thinking about Jack, he'd been mightily quiet since Sketchy had started drooling. Turning back to look at him, she immediately noticed the lack of any color in his face. "Are you aiight?"

Those concerned words even drew Sketchy's attention who immediately spoke up. "Yeah, you don't look so good. Are you sick?"

"No, I'm fine." Strange, those words sounded almost scared. Was it because the agents were looking at the woman as well? After all, with the way everyone was positioned that meant they were watching the three of them as well. And their interest in the reappearance of the woman was pretty obvious. They were probably debating whether she was some kind of messenger for Max. As if her boo would contact Normal.

"Is it those fools?"

"What?" He didn't seem to grasp what she meant.

Nodding vaguely in the direction of the cops she repeated her question. "I know you're bothered by them, and we really should get rid of them. We just don't know how yet, maybe you could convince Normal. What with being his new golden boy and all." The last part was delivered in a teasing tone, in the hope that it would drag him out of his weird mood.

It did indeed generate a wan smile, but it was obvious from his words that it hadn't been enough. "Yeah, maybe. Look, I've gotta make a call, an' after that I'll go an' deliver these packages."

He didn't even wait for an answer before turning to walk to the phone, which was located near Normal and his guest. Poor guy. And from his behavior it soon became obvious he wasn't very good with women either. In fact, he almost stumbled over his feet in an attempt to stay away from the woman. Was he afraid of her? Because now that she thought about it, he hadn't acted like that with her.

Opening her locker she took something to eat out of it, but before she could actually eat the sandwich Sketchy spoke up in an excited voice. "She's looking at us."

Not again! "Sketchy…" she started her warning but her friend didn't seem to pay any attention.

"Now she's discussing something with Normal, who doesn't like what he's hearing."

"So? Look, I don't care what she's up to, so just dream silently aiight?" She was really getting fed up with this whole nonsense.

"No, a moment ago Normal was like the happiest guy in the world. Almost like when that Indian guy…"

"Oh shit," they both said as they realized the implications of his words..

"Not again," she hated the whining sound that come from her mouth, but in this case she just didn't have another way to express her disgust. The last time this had happened it had taken a lot of planning and a good dose of luck before they got out of it. Two things that they might not have this time around. No, they'd manage to prevent it from happening. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do if it stopped her from having to wear any ugly jackets.

"Normal's coming over here."

What? Raising her head from where she'd been resting it against the lockers she peered around the corner to see that Sketchy was right. "What's he want?"

"You two," Normal demanded before she could receive an answer.

"What?" Sketchy asked, looking down at his clothes. "Did I spill something?"

"Ha, ha. Very funny. I need the two of you to be on your best behavior. No funny business, our future depends on it."

Say what? "What are you talkin' about?"

"She wants to speak to the two of you of course. Don't ask me why, because if I had a choice I never would. But she does."

"Right," Original Cindy drawled. It was obvious that Normal at least was back to his normal self. Pun intended.

Even Sketchy had gotten over his worshiping of the woman now that he realized she might be threatening his easy job, and he didn't remain quiet either. "So what does she want to talk to us about?"

"The future, isn't that what I said? She's interested in the Jam Pony, but before she makes a decision she wants to talk to some employees. Now I realize that her choice was unfortunate, but she was stubborn about it. I couldn't convince her to talk to anyone other than the two of you. Remember, everyone is counting on you."

Original Cindy could feel a smile growing on her face as the impact of the words got through to her. They would be able to stop this from happening before it even started. "We'll do our best, but you do remember what happened last time don't you? You shouldn't get your hopes up just because someone says she wants to take us over."

"Ah, but this time it's not just anyone. This is Dawn Summers we're talking about."

Oh, right. Dawn Summers. "Who?" Sketchy asked, before she got the chance to do so.

"I realize that a couple of reprobates like you don't pay attention to anything but where your next meal is coming from, but you can't tell me you've never heard of her," Normal scoffed.

"Actually, I think we can. I've never heard of her, have you?" The last part was directed at her, and she only shook her head. Well, it was already obvious that she'd been wrong about the woman. Figures, she should have remembered those sad eyes.

"Well, I'll tell you a bit about her then," Normal started. And so in the short time that it took him to guide them to what passed for his office they got a lecture about the wonder that was Dawn Summers. She only heard half of it, and even that was soon forgotten as she had more important things to think about. Like how to get this woman to dump Jam Pony.

"Thank you mister Ronald, you can leave now," were the first words she'd heard the woman say, and they almost made Original Cindy like her. The look on Normal's face as he was summarily dismissed from his own office was priceless. Not to mention the fact that she had told him that with her back still turned to the entrance.

"Right, I'll just be outside then. Although it might be better if I'd stay."

"I'm sure that you've got business to attend to. I wouldn't want to keep you from doing what needs to be done."

Normal only nodded, and after he pulled the door shut behind him Original Cindy waited a couple of seconds before opening it again. Wow, he actually was halfway back to the dispatching station. Would wonders never cease to exist?

"Please close the door miss McEachin, and sit down. You too mister Theodore."

Okay, the woman had just officially lost every bit of goodwill she'd earned by that stunt with Normal. Besides, how did she even know her name? She doubted that even Normal would've been able to reproduce it without looking it up.

"If a ridiculous defiance like that makes you feel good, you can of course remain standing," the woman continued when neither she nor Sketchy had moved. "But the matter we have to discuss is quite important to all three of us, so it might be best if you did sit down."

"You want to take over Jam Pony."

Instead of confirming this like Original Cindy had expected her to do, the woman merely shrugged. "If I don't have a choice. It's not so bad a place actually, but the real reason I came here is to talk to the two of you."

What? Why? And when was she finally going to turn around? As she didn't care what the woman thought of her, she felt no compunction to voice those questions aloud. The reply she got however wasn't what she'd expected.

The woman did turn around, and immediately sat down, motioning for the two of them to do the same. With a glance at Sketchy, who didn't seem to have a clue to what was suddenly going on either, she decided to do as asked. "The subject I want to discuss with the two of you, is your friend. Max Gueverra. Also known as X-5 452."

Her head came up sharply at that, and Original Cindy glared at the woman before her. "What do you want with Max?"

"I have a proposal for her. One that is far more profitable than a place like this could ever be."

"What kind of proposal?" She didn't like this one bit, but she wasn't going to send the woman away until she was certain this couldn't help with her friend's situation.

"Do you have any idea of who I am?"

"No, and Original Cindy doesn't care either."

The smile that slowly started to grow on the woman's face was obviously meant to infuriate her. And, despite her best attempts to prevent that, it did work. "As you've probably already heard from mister Ronald, my name is Dawn Summers. I own one of the biggest companies doing genetic research in Europe. Now, where do you think my interests are when it comes to your friend?"

….…

She could hardly believe she'd let the woman convince her, but here she was. After a long discussion, with many heated arguments, she and Sketchy had finally had the woman accept the terms they demanded. Summers wouldn't attempt to recruit any of the transgenics she'd encounter while in Terminal City. In fact, she wouldn't talk to anyone but Max, who would see to further demands.

But still, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something completely wrong with this entire situation. For a moment she'd even entertained the possibility of her being Noir, but that thought had been dismissed almost instantly.

Not that the woman didn't seem to be a good enough actor, but despite her ruthless exterior Original Cindy had caught a couple of glances that showed her what kind of woman she really was. Eyes that innocent couldn't possible be faked, that sort of thing would go against the rules of nature. So that meant that the offer was genuine and something that she couldn't keep from Max. Naturally the woman had demanded the option to talk to Max in person, so that's what it came down to.

She had debated with Sketchy which of them should take Summers to Terminal City, and in the end it had been decided that she'd be the one going. Which meant that she was the one who was walking next to Dawn Summers when they stepped out of _Jam Pony_ and into one of the weirdest situations she'd ever been in.

A situation that would last far longer than she expected, was far more complex than she could possibly predict, and started when they walked into a white-faced Jack.

"What's wrong with you boy?" Summers asked, clearly puzzled by the boy's strange behavior. A feeling that Original Cindy agreed with, after all this was the second time Jack appeared to be scared of the brunette. What was wrong with him?

The answer though came from an unexpected direction. From behind them in fact. "He knows who you are."

Summers stiffened at those words, and slowly turned around in a move that looked to Original Cindy as if it could turn into an attack at any moment. "Dave?"

"Hiya Dawnie, long time no see."

"But you're dead," was the surprised reply from Summers.

* * *

Post-fic comments: And here is another chapter for you to enjoy. Don't forget to send some feedback. 

Vega12, Bob-from-Accounting, I'm glad you enjoy the story. And don't worry, a lot of questions will be answered in the rest of the story.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_April 2012_

This was the life, Samantha thought as she carefully made her way through the crowd. Once parties like this had been the norm in the States as well, they had been so common that she'd gone to them quite often. These days things were so bleak though. It had been bad after her father's death, but once the Pulse hit… She shook her head, that couldn't be helped now, and dreaming about how it used to be didn't make it any better.

Unfortunately, while looking around the room it was impossible for her to stop from doing exactly that. France too had been affected by the Pulse, yet here she was, at a party in a city where everything worked as it was supposed to. The worst part of the whole mess was that she couldn't really blame anyone for the lack of parties. Oh, it would have been nice if her mother had thrown more parties before the Pulse, but the woman had been hit hard by the sudden death of her husband.

And while she was far more like her old self again, those first months had been especially hard. So hard in fact that a sixteen year old Samantha had been suddenly forced into the position of pater familias. Which was plainly ridiculous. While she didn't want to sound sexist, that was a title meant for a man. It even said so in the name.

But there hadn't been anyone else capable of filling the position. With her mother an emotional wreck, and her little brother far too young, she had been the only choice. After all, she had no intention of giving over command of the family's fortune to someone who wasn't directly related to her. At least not once she'd gotten back to her senses. Hah! They had been so nice to her during the whole thing, offering emotional support, telling her she wouldn't have to worry about all the little things like finances, and even going so far as to pay for the funeral.

Okay, she had to be fair here. The funeral had been paid for by uncle George, and he had never shown any intention of taking over from her. But those other leaches… A strange look from a passing waiter made Samantha realize she was scowling, so she quickly schooled her expression into something more suitable for the occasion. With a polite smile pasted on her face she then continued her tour around the large room.

Knowing that some of those leaches were with her in this very room, Samantha didn't trust herself to start a conversation with anyone and instead chose to walk a bit more around the room. Who knew? She might even discover the location of her companion for the evening. The boy had managed to make himself scarce moments after their arrival, and she hadn't seen him since. It was rather cute, in an annoying kind of way, and he'd have to mend his ways if he intended to marry her.

Although she sometimes still caught herself thinking of him like a little boy, Jacob Masters was actually almost six years older than she was. Not that something like that stopped him from acting like a ten-year-old when it suited him.

The adorable way his face had crinkled after hearing that they would attend this party had almost made her want to kiss him. Alright, that wasn't the only reason, but that wasn't the point here. The fact was that if he intended to remain at her side, thereby merging the assets of both their families, he would need to learn to live with parties like these.

How he expected to go through life without them was something she couldn't understand anyway. People always were more open on these occasions, and there was usually at least one person who wouldn't be watching how much he was drinking. Thereby opening up opportunities anyone could take advantage of. And one of the last lessons her father had managed to impart on Samantha was that she should be the one to take advantage. But that boy just didn't seem to get that into his head. Now where was he?

"Another drink, madam?" was suddenly spoken from beside her, and, while the sudden appearance of the waiter surprised her, Samantha hid any sign on her face that might betray that feeling before she turned around

Looking at the silver tray the man was carrying, she didn't need long to make her decision. "Yes, thank you," was all she said before reaching for the glass of red wine. The first one she'd had of this vintage had been pretty good, not as good as some of the more well-known brands, but pretty good anyway.

"You're welcome," the man said while starting to around.

It was moments like this that Samantha wished she hadn't been raised so well. If that had been the case she could have just grabbed the man by his sleeve to stop him. But now the more polite way needed to be utilized. "Excuse me, could I ask you a question."

Turning back to her, the waiter raised an eyebrow in a manner that might have been construed condescending. Stuck up Frenchies. "Naturellement, madam."

Hah, if he thought to fool her by talking in that silly language, he was wrong. According to her mother it had been very important for her to be able to express herself in many languages, and Caroline Trudeau had been especially insistent when it came to French. So, she decided to simply continue in that language. "Yes, I was wondering about this wine. Where does it come from?"

Annoyingly enough, the man didn't appear fazed by her knowledge of his own language, as if he actually expected it. The cheeky bastard. No she shouldn't be like this to the poor man. He couldn't help it that she was so anxious to see that silly boy. "This comes from one of miss Summers' personal vineyards."

Hold on, had she heard that correctly? "One of her personal vineyards? You mean to tell me she has more than a single vineyard?"

"Naturellement, she has excellent taste when it comes to choosing wine. Over the last two years she has taken over several smaller ones, this will need to suffice until the main vineyard is ready."

"Ready? What do you mean by that? Isn't it just a question of placing the bushes, or trees, and turn the grapes into wine?"

This time she got a visible reaction from the waiter as he almost flinched at her statement. Butchering the way vineyards worked was probably a capital offense here in France, so she might have been better off keeping her mouth shut. "Not quite. It takes a number of years before a vineyard is capable of producing grapes of sufficient quality that they could be used to create a vintage of even a the least acceptable quality."

"Oh, and there's probably a lot of work involved as well."

"Indeed, many people will work on the vines in order to ensure a maximum harvest."

"Huh, and here I thought it was all done automatically," Samantha mused, but noticing how the man reacted to that, she quickly changed the subject. Lesson 43, always be nice to the personnel, both your own and your competitors'. They are the ones who keep the secrets that truly matter. "I'm sorry about that. I think I'll have to do a bit of research before continuing a conversation like this."

"That might be for the best, madam."

She looked in his eyes, using her winsome smile to its greatest effect. "But I wasn't aware Summers had a vineyard, I always thought she did something with genetics."

"Miss Summers has many business interests, in fields ranging from biogenetics to finance and even manufacture," the waiter explained. "However, in this case it has to do with her personal preferences. She spent quite a bit of her youth near a vineyard, and has pleasant memories about them. Aside from that, she takes satisfaction from the fact that her guests enjoy a vintage the she has worked on herself."

"Okay…" Samantha slowly said, while trying to come to grips with this torrent of information. Maybe she should have done some more research into her subject, how could she not have known all this? Only some genetic engineering, hah! Someone was going to wish he'd given her more up-to-date information once she got back home.

"If you'll excuse me now madam, I'll have to continue my round."

"Oh sure," she answered, without really paying attention to his words. It wasn't until he turned around once more that what he said registered in her mind. "Sorry, one last question."

She knew he had to be pissed by now, but he didn't let any of it show in his behavior. Obviously a well-trained professional this. "Yes?"

"Do you happen to know what's keeping miss Summers? I thought she would have been here over an hour ago."

"Unfortunately, something has come up that she needed to deal with immediately."

X.X.X

The moment she dropped to the ground Dawn already knew it was too late. Something that was confirmed when a bullet painfully grazed her shoulder, briefly calling back memories of another time that shoulder had been hit. But no, quickly rolling over until she was hidden behind one of the pillars that adorned the mansion's front porch, she realized this wound wasn't nearly as bad as the one she'd received in Iowa had been.

Despite the similar location, this was only a grazing wound that wouldn't even impair her ability to function. Thinking of which… She had been distracted for only a fraction of a second, but now it was time to pay attention to the world again. Getting to her feet, she realized that she was still in a situation that was far from comfortable.

As her hiding place became her opponents' prime target, Dawn wondered where these guards had suddenly come from. How could they have remained hidden from her until now? And more importantly, why had they remained hidden for all this time? Before she could contemplate this question a stone chip from the pillar she was hiding behind managed to work its way into her arm. Thereby tearing her attention once again back to the present.

How many were there? And how long would it be before they'd start to circle around her? Those questions raced through her head, easily supplanting the earlier ones, and there was even a pretty simple solution for finding the answer to them. All she had to do was risk her head and look around the pillar. Right, that shouldn't be a problem, now should it?

Mere moments before she almost tried to sneak a peek anyway, reason returned and she remembered there were other ways to do something like this. A small plastic mirror appeared from the pocket she kept it in, and was used to scan the garden.

Yes, there were the two guards she'd taken out upon first arriving here. They had been so easy to handle, and in her mind that had set the tone for the rest of the mission. All the guards would undoubtedly be that easy to handle, leaving her free to do what she'd come here for.

Of course, she realized now that these two must've simply been the least competent of the bunch, but that realization had obviously come a bit late. She wasn't here for self recrimination though, especially when there were better things to do. Using the mirror Dawn could aim at her targets without exposing herself, so that's what she did.

It probably looked silly how she was practically hugging the pillar, but where it concerned her safety this was a lot better than any other choice Dawn had at the moment. The only things that might stand a chance of getting hit by the guards were her hands, one holding the mirror and the other pointing the business end of her gun at them.

Her first shot went wide, but came close enough to scare the fools into hiding. The next shots got closer to where she aimed, but there were too many factors involved here for her to be able to aim as well as she usually did. Not to mention the fact that the cowards were now hiding behind pillars. Damn this all to hell! Had she known the assignment would be this hard she'd never taken it on for tonight. She didn't need the fee and she didn't have any use for the man's possessions either.

With anyone else, she might have emptied some of his bank accounts into a Swiss one that she controlled, but not even that had been possible here. Despite his posturing, mister Beauchamps was obviously broke. Well duh, she thought, if that hadn't been the case she wouldn't have been hired by the people he borrowed from, now would she?

Shaking her mind at the silly thoughts she sometimes had, Dawn used the opportunity that was provided when one of the guards broke cover. She only needed to pull the trigger twice before the man fell over, never to rise again. One down, far too many to go. She really shouldn't have accepted this assignment. Just because it might have gone to the Order if she hadn't wasn't a good enough reason. Not today at least.

Today was after all the day that she'd throw her first party for the so-called elite. A party, she remembered chagrined, that started almost an hour ago. A lot of planning had gone into this party, and now she wasn't even showing up. Oh boy, was Véronique ever going to be pissed at her.

But as she'd told the woman before, socializing wasn't her strongest point. And with a sheepish look on her face, yet a complete lack of guilt, she had to admit that the party might perhaps have been one of the reasons she'd accepted this mission. Sure, she could keep on telling herself that it was because of other reasons, but the truth was rather obvious and simple. She'd have to wear one of those non-functional ridiculous dresses.

The appearance of a guard within her sight triggered another automatic response from her, and once he was lying on the ground she took a moment to check her ammo. Seven rounds left in this magazine, and, apart from the half-full one she'd replaced earlier, only two magazines left. That wasn't entirely bad, bit it wasn't good either. And it wasn't as if she hadn't brought enough ammo for two missions of this nature. Two missions where her information had been correct that is.

Looking around she checked for anywhere that would be safer than where she was now. Unfortunately, the only place that presented itself was the open door leading into the house.

There was no way that she'd be able to keep these people pinned down for much longer, it actually was surprising she had managed this long. Sooner or later they'd come to the conclusion that she'd never be able to kill all of them if they all acted at the same time. Luckily it appeared as if there was no real hero among them, but it couldn't be very long until they'd gain enough courage anyway.

Which meant that staying out here would get her killed, leaving her without a real choice. Taking two quick steps in the direction of the door Dawn dove for the floor and rolled until she was once again on her feet, a mere two meters from the opening. Meters that she bridged quickly while emptying her gun in the direction of the guards. Only once she was safely inside did she allow herself to heave a small sigh of relief at having gotten through.

Alright, she'd had a breather now Dawn thought while focusing once more on the situation. While replacing the empty magazine, she took stock of the situation. The main lobby, well the only positive thing she could say about it was its location on the inside of the house. From studying the blueprints of the mansion, Dawn knew that there were three ways to reach the room she was in now. The first was through the front door, but she was certain that the guards were good enough to realize they'd never survive that.

Which meant that only two or three of them would stay on the front porch, while the others would circle around for the other entrances. So, she had to figure out a way to stop them once they arrived or, even better, before they'd get here. A three-pronged attack would be a bit difficult to survive in this bare room.

A look at the stairway leading to the upper floor told her immediately that trying to secure that would be impossible. She might be able to keep anyone from coming down the wide steps, if that was the only thing she needed to do. But if the guards descending the stairs were covered from above, and an attack came from the outside, and more guards arrived through floor level entrance to the room as well… No, that would be impossible.

This room was simply far too dangerous for her to stay in; she needed to continue on into the house. Crossing the room, Dawn opened the door she found there to the hallway beyond, only to discover that a guard had already arrived. How? She hadn't been standing there that long had she? No, she hadn't. Understanding came the very moment she killed the guard, and she couldn't contain the long-suffering sigh.

Obviously the time had arrived for another test. And it wasn't the corpse lying in the bedroom upstairs. It made sense. It was the most obvious solution to something that had been bothering her the entire night. If the target was broke, how could he afford any guards at all? Damn it! Hitting the wall with her fist Dawn fumed at the unfairness of it.

Why did she have to keep going through these things? She hadn't liked it when she'd had to deal with Dux, or the people that Soldats had sent after he'd been killed, but she'd always survived the encounters. Something everybody had been able to look up even back when they still used DVDs. So why did those Terakan fools believe they could succeed where Soldats had failed?

X.X.X

This was unbelievable. Simply unbelievable, Samantha thought while taking in the sight before her. She had left the party room when she'd finally admitted to herself that Jacob wasn't in there, and had gone exploring. Her first impression of the mansion was that it looked incredible—obviously a good designer had gone over it—but it seemed empty. As if nobody was ever here to enjoy its luxuries.

Upon realizing that, she had immediately vowed to herself that once she had her own house, it would be a place she could call home. Somewhere she could really live, not just exist as the inhabitant of this place obviously did. Of course, it made sense that Summers was never here. Especially if the information the waiter had given her was correct. Setting up a commercial empire like that took a lot of time, no matter how many people you had working for you.

But what she was looking at now wasn't something Samantha would have expected in a thousand years. It was a large room, although somehow it didn't seem nearly as empty as the smaller ones had, something that wasn't just because of the people inside.

Equipment was placed throughout the room, both for fitness and a wide variety of sports. No team sports though, everything she saw was either for one single person, or at the most two competing people.

But that wasn't what she found unbelievable. No, not even the fencing equipment hanging from the wall that she longed to use earned the title of unbelievable. There was only one thing that could be termed thus, and wonder of wonders it was the boy she'd been looking for.

"Jacob! What do you think you're doing?"

And he even had the gall not to look sorry! "Oh, hi Samantha. Come here, I want to introduce you to my new buddies here."

New buddies? What was he thinking? They were common servants, nothing more, nothing less. But it was easier to admonish him when she was next to him anyway, so she walked over. "Why aren't you at the party?"

"Why aren't you?" The shit-eating grin on his face told her that he was attempting to make a joke, but she couldn't really laugh about it.

"I was looking for you."

"You were worried," Jacob breathed surprised, before his grin widened at this, obviously incorrect, realization.

"Was not."

"Yes you were. You were worried about me."

"Why would I be worried about someone who can't even spend more than five minutes at an important gathering?"

"Oh no, you can't fool me," he told her with that smile still on his face. He really looked like the lovable fool he was when he did that, didn't he? No! Angry, she was angry at him and shouldn't let him distract her.

"Why aren't you at the party?" There, let him answer that question.

"It was boring. I told you it would be boring even before we came here, and I did not feel like suffering for an entire evening."

"I thought your parents asked you to secure a business deal with miss Summers? Shouldn't you be working on that?"

"She's not here yet, or has she arrived in the last five minutes?" Jacob asked her, with that annoyingly smug look on his face. How could one man look adorable one moment, and like a total jerk the next? And more importantly, how dare he use logic against her valid arguments?

"That's not the point!" Samantha almost screamed at him. Boy, did she hate having to resort to something like that. There had to be a way to convince him that she was right, he was wrong, and that he should do what she told him to.

"Of course it is. I don't have to talk to the people in there, they don't have anything I need from them."

"Not now perhaps, but who knows how it will be in a couple of years? Or don't you think that's important? You're supposed to talk to them to make new contacts that you can abuse later on."

"Abuse?" he asked with a smile, interrupting her nice refreshing rant. Abuse? Had she said that?

"Use, I obviously meant use. Don't you try to correct me here. It's you who's wrong."

But Jacob didn't appear to want to give up on her Freudian slip. "I think that you're not as innocent as you try to appear."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." How come she was suddenly on the defense? He was in the wrong, not her. Right?

"No, no. I think that behind that proper facade, you're actually a naughty little girl. Telling everybody what they should be doing, but not because it's the right thing to do. Oh no," Jacob raised himself from the bench he'd been seated on and approached her, while she took a doubtful step backwards. "You want people to follow the rules because you think you know them better than they do. And when they play by the rules you can outmaneuver them and take what you want."

Right. Time for the counterstrike. "T-that's ridiculous." Oh great one Samantha, see how he's standing there incapable of a good retort?

"Is it? I think it sounds exactly like the kind of thing a smart woman like you would try to do. And do you know why I think you do it like this?"

"No, but why don't you enlighten me with your clairvoyant knowledge? I obviously have a good reason for it, otherwise you'd never have attempted these ridiculous accusations." There, that's better. Sarcasm strikes again, but even as she was trying to convince herself that she was starting to get back in the game, Samantha could feel her heart racing. And that wasn't just because of the wonderful aftershave Jacob was wearing.

Jacob kept approaching her, and Samantha took another step back, only to encounter the wall. How had she gotten here? Shouldn't she have backed out the door or something? But a quick look to the side showed her that somehow she must've turned somewhere.

His fault! He'd done this to her! How dare he mess with her mind like this? And he even continued doing so! The cheeky… she never finished that thought as she was suddenly focused on the wonderful feeling of his lips on her forehead. In fact, she was so focused on it that she missed his murmur. "What did you say?"

"I said it's because you're a decent person. One of the rare really good people left in the world," Jacob repeated his comment.

What? That didn't make sense, so Samantha immediately struck back. "Don't be ridiculous, don't you realize how much you're contradicting yourself here? How can I be both a sneaky bitch trying to manipulate everyone around her, and at the same time be such a good person. Huh? Explain that to me."

"Oh my love." He'd called her my love! She loved it when he did that, and she was pretty sure he knew that because he only used it sparingly. Usually when he was in trouble. And he dared accuse her of manipulating people? "I said you want everybody to use the system, because you know the system so well. What I mean is that it's the only way you can get an advantage over certain people, as you are simply incapable of going outside the rules. You simply can't cheat."

"I so can cheat. I distinctly remember doing so." And she did, she could easily remember the last time she'd cheated.

"Really? And when was that?"

She huffed at the question, and deliberately looked away from him. "I don't need to answer that question."

"True, because I already know the answer. Richard told me."

What? "I don't believe you." Stall tactics engaged.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you cheated while playing checkers with your six year old brother. Or should I say, attempted to cheat?"

He really did know. Oh god, how could that have happened? No, she knew how it had happened. She'd kill Richard for doing this to her, how dare he tell Jacob all these secrets? It wasn't like she gossiped with his girlfriends. Well, except for that time with Claudia perhaps, but that didn't count. Nor did the one with Jessica for that matter. But she could deal with him later, first she had to talk herself out of this. "He was very perceptive at that age."

"Of course he was. I'm sure that's the reason a ten-year-old couldn't cheat against someone four years her junior. Face it Samantha, you're just too honest."

"I'm not. I mean…" she trailed off. Was there even a good way she could answer this?

"You are. Everybody knows it, even you. Isn't that why you let other people handle the actual contracts while you focus on networking? Of course, that is a flaw the both of us share. Except maybe that you're willing to talk to anybody, while I only do so with people I like."

"There's another difference as well," Samantha told him, having already given up in defeat. He obviously knew her a lot better than she'd thought. He probably knew most of her secrets now, except for that thing about the vampires but she had no idea how to bring that up.

"And what's that?"

"Our egos."

"Our egos? What do you mean?"

Pushing him back from her, she raised herself from the wall she'd been pressed against and started directing him backwards. "Unlike you, I don't constantly try to brag about how wonderful I am."

"I love you."

"Don't interrupt me, I'm just getting warmed up here. Unlike you, I don't always try to prove myself to every man I come across."

"Marry me."

"I sa-" what did he just say? Had she heard him correctly? Was this real? She could barely whisper the question. "What did you say?"

The moment he went to his knees, Samantha knew that she had heard it correctly. "Samantha Trudeau, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" She had no need to see the ring he was holding up for her, no bauble, no matter how beautiful, could influence her decision here. Her mind had been made up long ago.

"Yes, oh yes." Realizing her tears of happiness were ruining her mascara, she tried to brush them away. Only to have her hands interrupted by her fiancé.

"Allow me," and as she had no intention of stopping him from touching her, she remained silent until he'd cleaned her face. And once her face was clean, he slipped the ring on her finger.

It was while Samantha was admiring the beautiful piece of jewelry that she was suddenly reminded that they hadn't been alone in the room after all. "May I be the first to congratulate you, madam? And you too sir."

"Please Jacques, I told you to call me Jacob."

"Of course, Jacob."

Samantha knew she had to look ridiculous, the way she was gaping in surprise, but that didn't stop her from doing so. How could she possibly have forgotten these servants were in the room as well?

"Samantha, I'd like you to meet these fine men. Guys, this is my fiancée, Samantha. Now, to prove to my beloved that I'm not a total waste of space, I believe you were about to tell me something about how you came to work for miss Summers?"

X.X.X

Not good. Running through the door Dawn once again cursed her stupidity for having accepted this trap, she refused to call it a mission any longer, even as yet another bullet came far to close to hitting her. Why couldn't she have simply left it alone for once? No, she knew why she'd accepted and even as she ducked into a room she was forced to acknowledge her greatest weakness. She had become predictable.

Every single time when she was about to refuse a mission, all the client needed to do was say that he'd hire the Order of Teraka if she didn't want the job. And of course, she couldn't let such a challenge go.

Turning back to the door she fired another salvo, causing her pursuers to jump back and hide in the hallway. How many more of these people were left anyway? She had already killed eight of them, and wounded several others, but there didn't seem to be an end to them. Not that it mattered, unless the Terakans had changed their modus operandi, the only threat that mattered was still coming.

Continuing her flight, she opened the door on the other side of the room and went through it. A new hallway. Quickly she looked to both sides to get an indication of where she was. Good, it seemed as if they at least hadn't messed with the blueprints.. For a moment she'd feared that possibility, but they obviously hadn't gone this far in their attempt to catch her.

"There she is!"

The words came from behind her, and instinctively she spun around to see who it was that had spoken while simultaneously raising her gun. Four shots, and two corpses later, the gun clicked empty. Leaving her without an easy way to kill her pursuers. She had a couple of seconds before they'd find her again, but that wasn't enough to retrieve the weapons of her latest victims. That didn't mean she was about to waste those seconds though.

Another room offered the solution she required, and ducking into it she jumped over, and hid behind, a couch. Holstering her gun, Dawn once again went over her current situation. Fact: the people she was facing now were cannon fodder, sent here to flush her out and if possible weaken her for the final confrontation with the Terakan. Man, that almost sounded like a video game or bad movie.

Where would this Terakan be hiding though? Dawn didn't feel like she was being driven in a certain direction, but that was undoubtedly the plan. Except if the cannon fodder didn't know why they were here. Maybe she should ask one of them. Yes, that might work.

It wasn't long after reaching this decision that she heard the door open, and listening from behind the couch, she heard the conversation between the guards. "I don't see her here. Are you sure she went this direction?"

"What? You think Christof and André killed themselves? No, she's either in this room or one of the others. We've got every exit covered, there's no way that she could've gotten past us."

Well, that answered one question, they were indeed trying to keep her inside the building. But they hadn't mentioned anyone who could be the Terakan either. Time for more information.

Peeking around the couch she had already discovered that her opponents weren't paying a lot of attention to the room anymore, so when she suddenly rose to her feet, the two were caught flatfooted. One of her knives flew true, impaling the first, and with swift strides she reached the other, kicking the gun out of his hand before he could use it.

The man wasn't put off by that however, and immediately put in a kick of his own, catching her in the side. It wasn't enough to topple her, but the swift movement did get her respect, and made her size the man up before she would try again.

"So, you're the all powerful Noir, eh?" her opponent sneered. "I don't think you look like much. In fact, I think you're worthless without any weapons. Or do you really think you can beat me in hand-to-hand?"

Wonderful, a talker. His previous action had earned him some respect, so why did he feel the need to give that up? At least he was cocky enough that he didn't call for his friends to help him.

The two of them continued circling for several seconds, each looking for an opening. In the end, it was her opponent who struck first. Aiming a punch at her left side, he waited until she moved to block it before turning the feint into a real attack on her right. The foot came at her at an almost inhuman speed, but even though she had fallen for the trick, Dawn was able to spin away from the attack, only suffering a glancing blow.

But, she decided, enough was enough. The short test had been nice, and it proved that she wasn't infallible, yet, but she couldn't waste this much time on it. Sooner or later somebody would come to check on these two, and she wanted to be gone once that happened.

Coming out of the spin, Dawn let loose a series of her own blows, aiming for the target's head. A simple left-right combo with her fists was blocked, but managed to divert his attention away from her real attack. A feint was something most people expected to cross in a fight, but it wasn't all that common that a real attack was used as a diversion.

But when her right foot suddenly crushed her opponent's knee, he had to have realized that was exactly what she'd done. Dispassionately she watched him go down, but she managed to grab him by the throat, cutting off his air supply, before more than the start of a scream escaped his mouth.

"Not so cocky now, are we? No matter, I've got some questions for you," Dawn started interrogating the man who was lying at her feet. "And there are two ways this can go. Either you answer my questions, or you suffer."

Moving her head closer so that not only could she look into his eyes, but even smell the sweat that adorned his face, she continued in a whispery voice. "And I have a lot of experience making people suffer, trust me on that, you don't want to test my abilities in that field. Do you understand?"

Probably fearing the consequences if he answered the question aloud, the man nodded frantically, causing her to purr her answer. "Perfect.

"Now, the first question. How many of you are there?"

"T-twenty-s-six."

"In total, or still alive?"

"Total." Hmm… Dawn considered this information. Not counting the two here she had killed ten of them. Which left fourteen. That was quite a large number actually, and not something that made her happy.

"I heard you mention that you've got the exits covered. How?" The man didn't answer the question immediately, probably finding some courage again, so she broke one of his fingers. "How do you have the exits covered. Don't make me ask a third time."

This finally had the required effect, and for the next minute the sobbing man detailed the way his people had gone about guarding the front and back doors. At least he hadn't started begging for relief of the pain yet, she hated it when they reached that state. It always made them take so long in answering her questions.

When he had finally finished speaking, something that Dawn started to believe was taking too long as well, she asked her next question. The question she already knew the answer too, but wanted confirmed. "Who hired you?"

"I-I don't know." Snap, another finger was broken. By now the man was crying non-stop, a ridiculous sign of weakness that proved he wasn't a professional, but didn't stop him from repeating the same lie. Not that she believed him, so kicking him around a bit Dawn waited until she had a clear shot at his sole remaining intact knee, and crushed that with a powerful kick as well.

Naturally, this caused him to cry out again, and this time not even the lack of oxygen was enough to silence him. Undoubtedly calling the attention of his friends. But while he was rolling on the floor he kept repeating his earlier words in between the crying, begging for his life, and asking her to have mercy on his children. She didn't have any more quick ways to persuade him to talk, so her only choice was to accept what he'd told her.

That didn't mean she didn't have any other questions for him though. "You don't know that the Order hired you. But they must have sent an envoy, where is he?"

"I-I d-don't know wha-what you're talking about," the man sniffed. He was stalling, probably hoping his friends would arrive. She didn't have time for this. She was on edge already with the knowledge that soon more opponents would come here. No more being nice to him.

"Of course you do. You have five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One." Snap, a punch on his nose broke another bone in the man's body.

"There isn't anyone," he begged, "please believe me. All we had to do was keep you here, until…"

"Until what?" Dawn demanded, but allowing her hearing to focus on things further away than the hallway, she believed for a moment that she could make out the faint sound of approaching sirens. The surprise she felt made her voice the ridiculous option out loud. "The police? The bastards try to use the police to take me out?"

Her distraction at that thought almost caused her to miss her victim trying to reach one of the guns lying in the room. Which was quite impressive when you considered his injuries. Oh well, desperate times and such.

But there was a far better use for those guns than letting him waste bullets on trying to shoot her. Two steps and she was standing next to him. Bending over she then pulled on his head until it was at an uncomfortable angle for him, but a rather convenient one for the twisting movement that ended his life.

Quickly Dawn gathered the two guns and the spare clips the men carried, before leaving the room, where she encountered the first of the hirelings who'd come to rescue his colleague. Not that he'd be successful in that, because that sort of thing was hard to do when both you and the one you were trying to save were dead.

….…

Reaching the window she was now looking out of hadn't been very easy. And she'd had to take more risks than she really liked to get there this fast, but it couldn't be more than a minute or two before those police officers arrived. And when they did, she needed to be gone. A last mental check of everything she'd done here confirmed that she hadn't left anything behind.

Her gun, empty though it might be, was still in its holster, and everything else she'd used was in its appointed place as well. The only proof that might be used to connect her to the here and now was the blood she'd lost when she'd been shot. That might eventually prove to be a bit of a problem, but she should be able to make that sample disappear. If the cops even found it that is.

The borrowed guns she was holding now were fully loaded, and without waiting another moment she started to empty them. Like her informant had told her, the exits were well guarded. But even now, years after the fight in that alley in Nowhereville, Iowa, everybody still forgot that the world was three-dimensional. Yes, there was such a thing as height, and as she shot the four fools below her Dawn proved that to them.

Shards from the window followed the path of the first bullets, ensuring the glass wouldn't bother the ones fired later. Even so, after taking care of the hirelings outside, Dawn still needed to remove some of the remaining shards. In that too, the guns proved they were pretty useful.

Dropping to the ground she scanned her surroundings for anyone she might have missed, but when she didn't find anyone she quickly crossed the garden until she reached the fence. Dropping the guns, so she wouldn't have to walk through the streets with them, Dawn then vaulted over the fence and started running again, until she finally reached her getaway car.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Dawn opened the door, and let herself drop in the backseat while stripping of her gloves. At last, all she wanted to do now was to go home and sleep. Leaning her head back she let her heart calm down while Frederique started the limousine.

They had barely pulled away from the parking space when the first police car crossed their path, making her realize even more how lucky she'd been. And she was relieved when the cops didn't try to stop her, never once thinking that an assassin would drive such a conspicuous car. And therefore never realizing how close to death they'd just come.

Still, the only reason she had reached the car on time was through sheer luck. Her current way of choosing missions was obviously flawed and she needed to do something about it. Later. What she really wanted to do now was to soak in a hot tub for an hour before going to bed.

Turning to look out of the window Dawn suddenly let out a loud groan. That damned party. Not only couldn't she go to bed, she had to dress up prettily as well so that she could mingle and make new contacts.

Life had been so much easier when she'd been a simple assassin and didn't have to concern herself with all these ridiculous things. At least there was some time before they reached the house, so she might as well rest a bit longer.

Of course, relaxing made her mental grip on her body weaken. And she had barely started when her body decided it was time for her to be reminded of the injuries she'd sustained.

X.X.X

"Originally I'm from a small village located near the border of Switzerland," Jacques started, while Samantha and her intended joined the servants on the bench. "Now, our village was a place that had successfully staved off civilization since its inception.

"Not entirely of course," he hastened to add, "we did have mail, cars, and such, not to mention the occasional tourist who wandered into the town. But I'm sure you understand what I mean. We were happy without all that nonsense people think is so important. There was no television or computer anywhere in the village."

"Why?" Samantha interrupted, she had never been able to understand why anyone would give up the ability to have the information those machines provided.

"You mean, why didn't we have them?" he asked a bit surprised.

"Yeah, I could perhaps imagine living without a TV because that's simply another way to be spammed with commercials, but computers make your life so much easier."

"Only if you need them," Jacques countered, "and we didn't. To us a computer was simply something that we didn't need to live our lives. Our lives back then weren't comparable to anything you might understand. We took care of the crops, the animals, and enjoyed a quiet life. No hurrying, no appointments that needed to be kept.

"No that's not entirely true, there were appointments that needed to be kept. But those appointments concerned things like when the wheat needed to be planted and the grass needed to be hayed. The most pressing matter each day was to ensure the cows got milked on time. It was hard work, but compared to modern life it was wonderful. Rustic, I think that's the word for it." He sighed and stared into the void for a moment.

"You miss it," Jacob stated the exact thing Samantha had been thinking.

Jacques only nodded, as did the other servants. "Yes, there are days when I almost wish she had never parked her car at the center of the town."

"She? You mean Summers?"

"Miss Summers, please," Jacques chastised her, "but yes. At first glance her arrival seemed like just another tourist, a French tourist, but a tourist nonetheless."

That didn't fit with her information, Samantha thought. "French? She's American."

"That my dear, was merely an accident of birth."

My dear? She raised her eyebrow in an admonishment to the servant. She might be kind enough to listen to his story, but he should remember his place.

"Miss Trudeau," the immediately contrite man told her. At least, she chose to see his actions as being contrite, if the waiter had been a good indication, you never knew with these people.

"Better. Now, explain your comment."

Now the man smiled as he if recalling a happy memory. "Those are her own words. Ahh, but I still remember the day she walked into the croissanterie, Véronique had just put a new batch in the oven when she walked in. Miss Summers had been directed there by my daughter you know."

Right, she couldn't really see the importance of that, but if the man thought it important… "That's wonderful, but why don't we skip the part where you're going to tell us what she ate?"

"But this is an important part of the story," the Frenchman protested.

"I'm sure you can summarize it for us." The glow from being proposed was enough to keep her in a good mood, but she was starting to get a bit anxious. There were only two things Samantha really wanted to do right now. The first being to rub her engagement into the noses of all the leaches in the other room, and the second was to properly celebrate it. And she couldn't do that last part until they were back in their hotel room.

"As you wish. Miss Summers came to our village because she'd heard of the Manor and was wondering if she might buy it. It wasn't in very good state however, and when she was there a piece of stone broke off, and hit her back."

"Ouch."

"Indeed, she was wounded when she returned to our village, and there we had even worse news for her," once again the servant trailed off while thinking about that day. No doubt the news was terrible, his favorite lamb or something had probably died.

But gullible, yet always lovable, Jacob asked the question anyway. "How so?"

"While she was visiting the Manor we had been informed of the terrorist attack on your country." Oh. This time Samantha silently apologized for her earlier thoughts, especially as she still remembered that night when suddenly all the lights in Seattle turned off. When suddenly the world became a darker place.

She moved a little closer to Jacob in an attempt to stave off those memories, and was relieved when he put his arm around her. A minute passed in silence as they all thought about the things that had happened on that day, but soon enough Jacques continued his story. "It was on that day that we made the decision to dedicate our lives to her."

"What, all of you?" Jacob asked surprised, but that wasn't the question Samantha wanted to ask. She was more interested in the why. Why would they suddenly decide on something like that? So she asked.

"Yes, the entire village. And as for why? Our ancestors always served those who lived at the Manor, and miss Summers had decided she wanted to purchase and renovate it. So, we could do no less than to offer our services."

Right. And that was supposed to make sense how? But Samantha decided against speaking up. If these people wanted to live like that, she wouldn't stand in their way.

"And I take it she accepted?" Strange how Jacob seemed so immersed in this story, while she wasn't. Looking at him she could clearly see how interested he was; all the telltale signs were there, the slightly bated breath, the shining eyes, and even the way he was slightly leaning forward. While she on the other hand kept waiting for anything interesting to turn up in the story.

"Yes, she did. It wasn't easy, but when Véronique came down and told us she had accepted. Oh, you can't possibly imagine how happy we were. It was almost as if we'd been waiting for that day for more than thirty generations." Yawn, and now the fact that someone lifted them from their paltry little lives was seen as the act of a savior. Snuggling a little deeper into Jacob's embrace, she dimly wondered how long it would be before the arrival of the first bible reference.

"That's wonderful," Samantha interjected before that horrible thought could actually become reality, "but why don't you tell us something a bit more intere-, recent? Perhaps about how she started her company?"

"Interrecent? Of course," Jacques didn't seem to be insulted by her slip, instead switching to the next subject," I can tell you a little about how miss Summers started her business.

"When she came to us she had enough money to rebuild the Manor, but there were costs she hadn't anticipated and luckily she had enough foresight to discover this before work started on the Manor. In those first months after the Pulse, the stock market was truly on its lowest point ever, and she used that to her advantage.

"There were a number of small companies that were not much more than fronts for their US based mother companies. And that is where she started. As most of her planning took place in the village we were aware of her plans, and her methods in acquiring those companies.

"At first she looked for those companies with the highest chance of a quick payoff once they'd be back on their feet. After she had identified these, she approached the individual stockholders and offered them more than they could expect on the market.

"Now, because you're so fond of summaries," Jacques told Samantha, "I will simply tell you that within those first months she spent her money until she was almost broke. But once the financial markets started to recover again, her financial situation soon turned for the better."

Interesting. And while this wasn't a subject where she was satisfied with a summary, Samantha decided against pushing the servant, instead opting to consider the information. Business-wise it made sense. The whole plot was a fast way to make money over the backs of others, something that might not be the nicest thing to do, but was definitely effective. "You said that's how she started, implying she changed her behavior later on. Can you tell me something about that?"

"I'm not sure if I should, but you have just gotten engaged and I doubt miss Summers would mind so-" Jacques suddenly broke off when the doors to the room opened.

"Jacques, your presence is required."

"Bernard? What is it?" the man asked, while starting to get up.

"Miss Summers has arrived, there are some things she wants to discuss."

Jacques nodded his understanding. "Of course, did everything go well with the negotiations?"

"She encountered some problems, but managed to handle them."

This seemed to worry Jacques, and he continued asking questions while he walked towards the other servant. "What kind of problems?"

"The usual kind. Don't worry, she told Frederique everything was fine."

"Dawn would say that everything was fine if she were lying with her stomach cut open. Have you spoken to her yet?"

Dawn? Did the woman allow her servants to be that familiar with her? That was rather unexpected. But as she watched the servants hurry out of the room, Samantha suddenly realized it was time for her to get back as well. Maybe rub her oncoming wedding a bit in the noses of the leaches, meet Summers, and spend the rest of the night celebrating.

X.X.X

"Miss Trudeau, right?" Dawn asked the young woman before her.

"Yes, I'm Samantha Trudeau. And this is-"

"Your fiancée, Jacob Masters. Jacques couldn't help but tell me the wonderful news. Congratulations to the both of you." Of course, the information Jacques had provided to her was far more extensive, including the useful bits from the conversation the Americans had in the gym.

"Thank you," both Samantha and Jacob said.

Cute. Dawn had no doubt that these two would make an interesting pair, especially with the way they seemed to complement each other. And as it also signified the merger of two obviously wealthy families, she was pretty sure they would make interesting business partners. Something that she could use in the United States, at least once it had been partly rebuilt.

"Miss Trudeau, mister Masters, I once more wish to apologize for arriving this late. Although, in hindsight it obviously served a purpose."

"A purpose?" Masters asked.

"Your proposal."

He smiled at that, while looking lovingly at the woman beside him. "Oh yes, it definitely served a purpose there. so in my opinion you shouldn't apologize. And I do not believe for a moment that you'd planned on staying away."

"Not like you would have done," Trudeau interjected.

"That's not fair. What would our hostess think of you saying that?"

"That it's the truth?" the woman asked, before turning to Dawn. "You see, my fiancée here isn't very fond of parties and usually does his very best to avoid them. The only reason he showed up today is because I told him to."

"It's good to see that you can handle him," Dawn told Trudeau. "I'm sure that bodes well for your future together."

The polite chit-chat continued, giving Dawn the opportunity to examine the two Americans. Yes, they would do. It was easy for her to talk to them, and most importantly they were both very honest. Sometimes extremely so, which couldn't be good for them in negotiations, but was perfect for her.

The problem with honest people was that they believed that everybody was honest with them as well. Often even going so far as to believe that about people they knew lied to others. Combine all that with the emotional tie the two of them now had to her, and you had the perfect insta-friend.

There was only one thing that bothered her. Trudeau. She knew that name but she just couldn't figure out from where. "Miss Summers," a flustered Jacques suddenly appeared at her side.

"What is it?"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news."

The police? Had they discovered her after all? Panic started to set in, but with an iron will she managed to repress it. "Speak up." After all, if it had been something that personal, he would have never started about it while Trudeau and Masters were with her.

"An earthquake, the biggest ever."

What? "Where?"

"California. It's been completely destroyed." DAVE! NO!

Post-fic comments: Thank you for reading, don't forget about the review button at the bottom of the screen.

Xelab, thank you for the compliments, now if people would listen to that and review it would be even better...


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_June 14, 2021_

"But you're dead," Dawn told him.

What? That didn't make any sense. "What are you talkin' about? You knew I was alive when you left."

Man, did he remember being alive then. The heartache at her betrayal was a pain greater than any he'd ever felt, before that night and since. Even after all these years, memories of that night still came unbidden.

Being awoken by a sudden hard sound, the glance he caught of Dawn as she walked away, and the bewilderment as he asked her what she was doing. And upon realizing the truth he'd scrambled to get out of his bed so that he could confront her, only to be too late as she'd already left the apartment. Not that that stopped him, but when he opened the door to his apartment he couldn't see her in the hallway and upon realizing he was naked he'd gone back inside.

Returning to his bedroom he'd discovered the hole in the pillow next to him. A hole created by the very bullet that was now hanging on a chain around his neck. The only comfort in it all was how she hadn't actually killed him. She had missed deliberately, no doubt about it, but even that knowledge hadn't stopped him from crying his heart out until long after the sun had come up.

But the woman he'd once thought the love of his life still hadn't answered his question. "Why did you think I was dead?"

"The quake," she said in a wondering tone, while her hand reached for his face, causing him to flinch back. No matter how innocent she'd once looked, this was the most dangerous woman currently walking the Earth. Unless there were even more secrets he didn't know about.

"What do you mean the quake? There was no quake that night." He was finally free to vent the frustration he'd kept inside for so long, and didn't feel like listening to some lame-ass excuses.

"Not then," Dawn said disappointedly as she pulled her hand back, "in 2012."

"What did that have to do with me? I wasn't anywhere near California back then."

"But Fred told me you were gone," she whispered.

Fred told her he was gone? What did he know? "That doesn't make any sense, I'd told him I was leaving."

"Maybe I misunderstood," Dawn said, still with that wondering look on her face as she stared at him. A look that almost, but not completely, made him forget about his anger.

"Yeah well, that wouldn't be the first time you misunderstood something," he barked at her, anger overriding caution. "Why the hell did you do that?"

She looked at him incomprehensively, obviously not immediately understanding what he was talking about. Until realization dawned, together with that distant look he'd become so familiar with over the years. "You said it."

"What?" He'd said something that made her shoot him, well not him directly but at least use bullets to warn him off. What could he possibly have said that would make her take such an action?

"What the hell could I've possibly said that made you-" he was cut off by the sudden furious look in her eyes. Oh yeah, they weren't alone and miss superassassin wanted to keep her secret identity secret.

"Aiight, Original Cindy is really starting to wonder what the two o' you are talkin' 'bout. Anyone care to explain this?" the black woman suddenly spoke up. Great one of those people who liked talking about themselves in the third person. Unless of course it was a case of multiple personalities, like Dawn and her so-called boss.

"You never had a boss did you?" Dave said, not bothering to answer this Original Cindy.

Dawn simply shook her head, but it was obvious to him that the surprise that had so clearly marked her earlier behavior was wearing off. He was starting to lose his advantage, and needed to press it so that he might actually get some answers. "No."

"I figured that one shortly after you'd left. I'm still surprised I never did when you were still around, as it made a lot of sense. You're a good actor."

"Actor? Are you tellin' me that she ain't who she said she is?"

This time he did answer the woman, although he wished she'd leave so he'd have a chance to talk to Dawn without having to watch his words. "I don't know, but I doubt she lied. She's Dawn Summers. Entrepreneur, multi-millionaire, and overall interfering woman extraordinary."

"Ah, aiight. Now I don't know who you are, but we were gonna visit my boo and I'd like to get there as soon as possible."

"Don't worry, I'll come with you."

"No you won't," Dawn ordered him.

Once he would have listened to a command like that. Once he would have done anything the woman told him. There had even been a time when he would've begged on his knees for the blessing of being able to hear such a command. But those times were gone; he had grown up, grown over the hurt and rejection. Now he simply ignored it. Dave too had followed the news concerning the transgenics, and was firmly on their side in the conflict.

Which meant that he'd do anything he could to save them, Even if it meant that he'd have to face Dawn Summers, the Soldier Hunter, Noir. "Why did you do it?"

Once again his question caught her off-guard, but not for long. "I told you, you shouldn't have said it."

"Said what? I loved you, I would've done anything for you!" What was her problem?

Her answer was short, to the point, and nothing like what he'd expected. "That."

"That? What that?" Only then did realization set in. "You mean that I loved you? I shouldn't have said that I loved you? What kind of nonsense is that? And why would that bother you in the first place?"

"Love kills people."

Love kills people? Dimly he remembered words like that from that show she'd named herself after, but she couldn't actually believe that could she? "That's nonsense, and you know it."

"Mom loved me, and I loved her. She died. Buffy loved me, and I returned that love. She died."

"You know I'm sorry about what happened to your family, but while it's hard to accept, people die. And you of all people should know that."

But she obviously wasn't done yet. "Faith was a very good friend, in a way I loved her as well. The same goes for Cordelia. Guess what? They died during their graduation."

How could anyone live like that? It was ridiculous to be that focused on dead people while your own life went on. Even he had learned that you should continue with your life, despite everything that happened to mess it up.

"I loved Jane and Sara, Willow might not have been my favorite person, but she too died. Giles died, and he was in some ways closer than my real father, or at least he could have been if Buffy had lived. And Xander..."

Ah, there it was. Seventeen years after he'd died the shadow of the wonderful Xander Harris still hung between them. "He died too Dawn. Why can't you simply accept that and move on? He was never interested in you anyway, he used to love your friends, but that's the closest you ever got to him. Wake up, and smell the coffee."

Dave didn't even see the movement, but he definitely felt it when she hit him, knocking him to the ground. Christ, picking himself up and rubbing the burning spot on his face, he couldn't help but wonder at the strength that was contained in such a small package. He'd always known that she was strong, but this was the first time he'd been on the receiving end of one of her punches.

And boy, did that hurt. At least she'd been nice enough to actually not kill him with that blow, because there was no doubt in his mind that she would've been able to do just that. But he also realized that while she might have chosen to let him live, the possibility that she might decide otherwise was still there. And that scared him. Every time he'd imagined this conversation, he had been the one in control, never once even considering the possibility that his life might be in danger. "Don't you dare say that again," Dawn hissed at him.

She could see, or maybe smell, his fear. Of that Dave had no doubt, but there was something bothering him. He might not have been at the receiving end of her anger before, but that didn't mean he hadn't seen her fight. Yet never had he seen her move like that. No, something had happened that made her faster and he doubted it was due to training alone.

Getting back to his feet, Dave considered the possibilities. He wasn't an expert on the human body, but even he understood there were limitations. Limitations that no longer seemed to count for Dawn, and there were only two ways he could think of that might have granted her that speed. Magic was out of the question, she would never subject herself to something like that, so that left only one other possibility. "You're like them."

"What?" Dawn seemed surprised by his answer, but no less incensed.

"You did it, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about but unless you start making sense any time soon, you'll wish you had."

At those words his self-preservation skills finally kicked in, and he quickly answered. "You've been genetically enhanced, haven't you?"

"Say what?" came from what'shername, something Cindy, but Dave was only interested in Dawn's reaction. She was the one who mattered, she was the person who controlled his fate.

"And what if I did?" she shrugged, apparently not caring that he knew. Not that he believed the front, but then he had just told her what a good actor she was.

"If you're like them, why-" Once again it was self-preservation that made him shut up, as he noticed Dawn's hand move behind her back. Where she had always kept a gun. "Never mind."

Suddenly he noticed Dawn looking behind him and as a smile that suddenly appeared on her face she waved to someone standing there. Turning around he noticed that several of the messengers had come out to watch their debate. Were they drawing that much attention? "Jack? Who are they?"

"The cops I mentioned boss," his protégé answered nervously.

"That's right," Dawn told him, still wearing that smile on her face, "and they're starting to bug me. First staring at me inside and now here as well, who do they think they are?"

"And how do you plan to get rid of them?"

Instead of answering him, she called out to the men. "Hey guys, Original Cindy here invited me to _Crash_ tonight, are you coming as well?"

Even he, without having seen them before, could recognize that the agents lowered their guard again. Whatever they'd been expecting wasn't an invitation to _Crash_, whatever place that was.

The agents gave some lame excuse about having something to do that evening, and decided that one of their number keeping an eye on the four of them was enough. The others went back inside, causing Dawn to turn back to him with a satisfied expression on her face.

"Fools. Anyway, now that we've settled that it's time to go before they realize how stupid they really are. It was great speaking to you again Dave, but Original Cindy and I have a meeting to get to." She then turned to the mentioned woman, and asked her. "Ready?"

"Don't you have to catch up with him or something?" Original Cindy asked, apparently not in a hurry to go anywhere yet.

"There's nothing we need to discuss. He's a bridge I burned a long time ago." No! He wouldn't believe it. Not when he remembered the happy look in her eyes when she first saw him.

"We're not done yet, Dawnie."

"Miss Summers to you, and we are." Hah, he could see right through her pitiful attempt of feigning no interest. Right? Yes, it was all an act, he was sure of it.

In a show of defiance, Dave looked straight in her eyes. An action that he was rather proud of and was only slightly ruined by the way he kept his hand on the quickly forming bruise. "Right then miss Summers, but you still haven't answered my question."

"I have, now go away and live your life. Try my approach, live in the now, not in the past."

What? That was ridiculous, he had never met anyone who was so focused on the past as Dawn Summers. "Sure, but I'm coming with you two."

That shut her up for a moment, before she switched gears again. "Of course you are, now scram."

No, not even treating him like a little child would help her, especially as that showed how desperate she was. This meant it was time to show her what he knew. "I don't think so. As far as I know there's no law that says I can't follow you until you've reached Terminal City. And after that I don't think it's up to you."

She ignored that revelation though, instead focusing on the rest of his words. "And your little friend? Is he going to be annoying me as well?" Dawn asked while glaring at Jack, who could only shake his head in denial. Poor kid, Dave was rather sorry about how he'd put him in this position but it couldn't be helped.

"Nah, Jack has other things he needs to do. Probably deliver a package or two."

"Jack huh? I'll remember that name," Dawn said while giving the boy a good warning glare.

X.X.X

He was alive. Dawn still wasn't sure how it could be possible, but as Dave was walking next to her, she couldn't exactly deny the evidence. How could this have happened? Why hadn't she known?

Had Fred lied to her? The bartender had been the first survivor she'd found. Well, the first survivor that she actually knew. And when she'd asked him about Dave, he'd answered with the words that haunted her ever since. 'He's gone.'

Not bothering to listen to anything else the man had to say, she'd walked away to suffer in silence. And up until the very moment she'd been faced with a living Dave she'd believed Fred meant that her only living friend in the United States had fallen to the curse as well. The curse that ensured everybody she cared about died.

Everybody. The only exception so far had been Mireille, but now Dave too was alive. Did this mean the curse had been broken? Had she been hiding from everything without the need to do so?

No, she had done the right thing. But for now she should focus on the survivor of her friendship walking next to her.

He hadn't been in Los Angeles at the time of the earthquake. Even thinking about it made her a happy woman, but there was more to it. While she was grateful that he had survived despite her belief otherwise, she was a bit miffed as well.

When she first got the news about the earthquake her thoughts had been about Dave. Despite the fact that her family still lived there as well, her first fears had been for a boy whose biggest crime had been to fall in love with her. A boy she'd tried to save, in the only way she knew.

'Love does sometimes kill people, but hatred has never saved anyone.' Those had been the parting words of Odette Bouquet. Yet those words had now finally been proven wrong. Dave's love had turned to hate, and because of that he'd stayed away from her. Keeping him safe from the curse.

It had worked. Had she done anything else, Dave would have followed her. And he would have died. Maybe not at her hands—although that always was a possibility—but there had been too many missions where she'd only barely survived. And during one of those missions he would've been killed. Because he would never have let her go alone, always coming with her. Always trying to be the hero.

"So, what's the dealio between you two?" Original Cindy's voice broke into her thinking.

"There is no deal with us," Dawn distractedly told the woman.

Despite the many years since she'd last seen him however, Dave still hadn't come to understand when he should keep his mouth shut. "Ah, that's not entirely true Dawn."

"Miss Summers."

"Dawn." He had been scared of her; she'd seen it in his eyes after she'd punched him. Why didn't he stay that way? It would have made her life so much easier now. "I've known her for years actually."

"You haven't seen me for years."

"One of the things you need to understand about Dawn is that she doesn't like to let people think they're better than she is," Dave continued, not letting her reply deter him in any way. "If you make a mistake she'll tell you about it, unless of course she's planning something in which it would be useful for you to look like a fool."

And what was wrong with that? Oh well, as long as he kept to telling innocent little things she couldn't care less. That didn't mean she wouldn't keep at least half an ear on the ongoing conversation, but looking down at the cracked pavement she was walking on Dawn remembered that night in 2012 all too clearly.

'California, it's been completely destroyed.' Words that were more dramatic than the actual situation warranted, but they were close to the truth. At the time she hadn't yet owned her own jet, that was still a couple of years into the future, but within minutes she'd been in contact with someone who did. Two hours after that, she'd been on her way to the city where she'd spent such a big part of her early years.

But she hadn't been alone on that flight. Remembering that Jacob Master was from California as well had been a stroke of luck, and offering to take him and Samantha along ensured that they'd always think of her as a friend. Not that that had been the only reason she'd taken them along.

Sharing grief lessened it, and during that flight Dawn had once again come close to crying. Somehow the idea that at least someone she cared about was out of the line of fire had always been enough to sustain her. And then it was proven that he wasn't safe anyway.

"But why did the two of you separate if you were such great friends?" the overly curious woman asked. Alright, Dawn could understand the woman wanted to ensure she wasn't bringing anyone dangerous to her friend, but this was going too far.

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Why not? Right now Original Cindy ain't sure if she should take either of you to her boo. Whatever you said in Jam Pony coulda been one big ol' lie."

"She has a point Dawn." A point he had undoubtedly counted on. But what made him think he had suddenly gotten good at manipulation?

"No she doesn't. But she is doing exactly what you planned for her to do."

Hearing that, Original Cindy stopped walking. "Aiight. What's the dealio here? You either tell me what's going on, or you ain't ever gonna get to see my boo."

"We separated over a difference in opinion."

"You had a fight?"

Dave snorted, but this time it was Dawn doing the ignoring. "Something like that."

"What about? An' don't you dare tell Original Cindy that it doesn't concern her."

Aggravating woman, but it didn't leave her with much of a choice. "I wanted to leave the city because I had some things to do. He wanted to come, I decided he shouldn't come. I left without him, end of story."

"An' you never went back? What kind o' friendship is that?"

There had been only one reason to return, and several hundred not too, but her explanation once again circumvented those issues. "Whoever said I'm good at friendships? They never seem to last long, so I've given up on them." Mostly at least, it was worrying how some people had managed to worm their way into her heart nonetheless.

"Ri-i-ight. Somehow I ain't really happy with that answer." Turning to Dave she then asked him the same question.

"Dawn isn't lying. It might not be the whole truth, but there are some aspects of the whole thing that I don't think should be discussed."

"Like how you loved her?" The woman obviously didn't miss much, and was smarter than Dawn had anticipated.

"Among others."

"That didn't matter." The two of them had spoken together, and Dawn glared at Dave in a silent command that he should shut up.

Not that he actually respected her wishes in that regard. "There were other issues as well, among those the way she left. And most importantly the timing."

Oh come on. He couldn't possibly still be angry about that, could he? Just because he'd managed to lure her into his bed didn't mean he had the right to whine about her leaving. Disgusted with the entire conversation she started to walk on, sooner or later the other two would follow. At least she hoped so.

There was something else that still needed to be done, and the whole thing with Dave had almost made her forget about it.

Dawn had already gone several blocks when the others finally caught up with her, but they were still surprised about her direction. "This ain't where Original Cindy was gonna lead you. You can't get there like this."

"I know. But there's something I still have to do. Something I almost forgot with him turning up." And didn't remember until Dave told her he knew their destination. Everybody, and their pet dog, seemed to know her destination and now the time had come to deal with some of them.

"What are you talking about Dawn?" Dave demanded, but she didn't even need to answer before someone else did.

"Halt. You're not allowed to go any further," the police officer she'd been aiming for spoke up.

"Hello officer."

"You again? Are you going to try to sneak past all of us again? You must have learned yesterday that it didn't work. In fact, I've been ordered to call my captain the moment you'd try again. So, don't move."

"As you wish officer," Dawn lazily answered. At least this was still going according to plan, unfortunately it was creating other problems. Should she have done this before going to Jam Pony? No, that wouldn't have worked with the timing.

"Dawn what's going on here? How come he knows you?"

Because she liked to complicate her own life? Because this was going to be useful? "Trust me."

"I did, a long time ago. But then I discovered that practically everything you ever told me was a lie," Dave whispered in her ear. Thankfully she was able to hide the shiver the hot air caused as it caressed her face. Oh no! No. No. No. She was not going to go that way again with him. One night with him was more than enough. Friends were friends, everybody else was fair game, but not friends. Never again.

Wait a minute, had she thought of him as a friend again? Not good, she shook her head in order to dispel that thought, he was no longer a friend. The friend had died, she'd mourned him, and went on with her life. The guy teasing her with his breath was a complication, not a friend.

"So, what do we have here? The mysterious woman from yesterday?" A new voice suddenly spoke up, breaking her out of her reverie. "Why don't you tell me why you've been trying to get through our perimeter?"

"I needed to speak to you."

"Of course you did, that's why officer McCarthy told you to stay here."

"Don't be obtuse. I came here to speak to you."

By the way the captain's face turned red, it was obvious he wasn't happy about her wording. But thinking of the damage Dave might do while she was away put her in a bad mood ensuring she didn't care about hurting the man's feelings. "I don't think you're offering me the respect I deserve little lady."

Little lady? That went too far, even for someone she needed. "How dare you," she said while slapping him with the flat of her hand causing the other cop to draw his gun.

"Put that away, McCarthy," the captain told the cop, while sudden understanding showed in his eyes. "And you little lady, will pass through this perimeter. I've got some questions for you. Your friends will stay here for a while as well."

Finally he got the hint. Turning to Dave and Original Cindy, she smiled comfortingly. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon and then we'll do what I came here to do." By the different expressions on their faces, it was obvious they both had different ideas about what she'd come here to do. This was the thing that she'd dreaded. By leaving them here alone, she provided the possibility for Dave to spill the beans. But this was necessary!

She was nervous while the officer led her to the small building that had been set up for this kind of event. Not that she showed it, but the queasy feeling in her stomach was there, and she hoped they'd soon be done. So it was with relief that she allowed the captain to lead her into a small room and dismiss the people inside. "You're free to speak in this room.."

"Good, I've got a message from your former employers," Dawn said while taking a seat. No need to waste any time here.

"Yeah, I figured that one out myself. As if the situation here wasn't complex enough."

"The Council wants you to do something."

"And how do they plan on having me ruin my career?" The captain sounded bitter, but she had to admit that according to his profile he had good reasons for it.

Not that the fact that he'd been booted out of the Watcher's Council for doing his job deterred her from putting him in his place.. "You might want to be a bit more polite you know," Dawn admonished with a raised eyebrow, while making herself more comfortable in her seat.

"For a messenger from that bunch of fools in England? I don't think so."

"For me, Dawn Summers. Sister of Buffy Summers, friend of Faith Lehane, and all around pest."

This at least got the former Watcher's attention. "I've heard of you, aren't you-"

"Yes," Dawn waved off, she had no intention of hearing the man talk about her, or how she'd gotten involved with that bunch of British degenerates. "Like I said, there's something the Council wants you to do. And for once it isn't even something that goes against your job as a police officer."

"Really? Do they want me to arrest a criminal or something?"

"Actually, yes."

That caught the captain by surprise, and with a mental sigh she placed her briefcase on the table and clicked it open. The man had already stepped back when she did so, obviously afraid she was carrying weapons inside it. But when he only noticed the papers his curiosity brought him closer again. Foolish of course, because with one click she could have opened the hidden compartment and taken out a gun and several knives.

"What's that?"

"This is a description of a number of people I spotted yesterday. All of them are close to your perimeter, and all of them need to be removed."

"Why? Who are they?"

"John, you don't mind if I call you John, do you?" As he indicated that he didn't, Dawn continued. "I don't have a lot of time here, there are other things I need to do, so I'd appreciate it if you kept the questions to a minimum. However, this is something you should know.

"The people on this list are bounty hunters, of the human variety. All of them want to catch Noir, and her mission is too important to be stopped."

"She wants to kill someone! It's my duty to save people, whether they're transgenics or otherwise."

Why had she expected that reply? Because people like him were predictable perhaps? Yes, that was probably it. "There's more going on here than you know, John. In times of war, it is sometimes necessary to sacrifice something that might seem important." Returning to what she wanted to say she continued in a more upbeat voice. "Now, back to business. It is important that these people are removed as soon as possible. Arresting them shouldn't be much of a problem, as you could at the very least take them for carrying concealed weapons."

"But-"

"Other than that, I have need for information about two beings. The first is one of my companions, David "Dave" Boyd. A small time crook, who has been roaming across the country for the past eighteen years. I want to know as much as you can tell me about him, I'll be back for the information later. That way you'll have time to gather what information you want. How long do you think it will take you?"

"I-"

"Good, I'll be back tomorrow then. Now, one more question." She knew she'd steamrollered over the poor guy, but there wasn't much time left now. Despite everything she was on the clock. But there was always time for vengeance, and unconsciously changing her voice to convey the anger she felt she asked her question. "Tell me everything you know about a vampire named Carlos. Where he lives, how much of the city he controls, and how many minions he has."

X.X.X

Original Cindy was not a happy woman. Things kept getting more complicated every moment, and she was starting to doubt the wisdom of bringing the Summers woman to Max.

"You're starting to have doubts about bringing her, aren't you?"

How did he know what she was thinking? Never mind, she wasn't exactly trying to hide her thoughts. But what was it about this guy? She had a feeling that he would tell her more about Summers than she otherwise would have known. And that what he would tell her was very important. On the other hand, the guy was doing his best to annoy her. "What do you care? Original Cindy thought you're in love with her."

"Love. That's why she left me isn't it?" Well, that's what the woman had said, but judging by the way they'd sometimes stopped talking Original Cindy suspected there was a lot more to it.

"Yeah, well. Sometimes those you love hurt you." Like Diamond had, she thought with a pang as she remembered her old lover.

"And sometimes there are things that simply can't be forgiven." Also like with Diamond, she conceded.

In an attempt to dispel her own painful memories, she tried to dig deeper into his. "What did she do then?"

There was no immediate answer, instead the guy spent his time staring at the house they'd taken Summers to, while playing with his necklace. Well, not so much the necklace as the ugly lump hanging from it. And for a moment she looked at the cop who was carefully watching them. Watching, but kind enough to give them some privacy.

When he finally spoke Dave sounded like he was speaking of something painful. "She left hours after I'd told her I loved her. Leaving me alone, confused, and without purpose. There was also a message, one that clearly told me not to come after her."

Once again he smiled, but it looked a bit forced to her. "It was cruel, and the way she severed her ties was complete. After a few weeks I managed to come back to myself an' decided not to care about what she wanted.

"I was scared to death, let me tell you that. First I went through all her usual haunts, looked up all her contacts, visited the bars we always went to for information, the usual." A long suffering sigh told her the answer before he actually spoke the words. "In the end I decided to bite the bullet, do the one thing I feared most."

Well, the guy might be annoying but he was able to tell an interesting mystery. Of course, the middle was always the easiest part of a story. Let's see how the ending was. "Whadda ya do then?"

"I went to see her father."

Hold on, had she heard that right? Her father? "Wouldn't that be the first place to ask?"

"Hah!" Dave scoffed, "that's because you've never met her father. Stuck up little bastard that he was."

"If ya talked about her family like that, Original Cindy can understand why she dumped your skinny white ass."

"That?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "That was nothing. You should hear what Dawn had to say about her family. They all thought she was crazy, even sending her to a psychiatrist and all that kind of stuff. No, there was no love in that family. Since I've known her, Dawn only cared about two members of her family."

Well, screwed up families were rather familiar to her, although she hadn't expected something that extreme among the rich. Except... now that she thought about it, wasn't it the same with Logan? "An' who are they?"

"Were. Her mother and sister, Buffy."

Oh yeah, Summers had mentioned earlier that they died. "Did ya know them?"

"No, they were murdered before I met Dawn."

Murdered! "They were murdered, I'da thunk they'd died in a car crash or somethin'."

"People around Dawn don't exactly have the tendency to die natural deaths."

Okay, now that was one morbid chick. At least it kinda explained why the woman didn't want anyone to love her. Sorta. "Aiight, but obviously you didn't care."

"No, I didn't. I loved her too much for that and hoped that she would one day return to me. You know how it is, not a real hope, just a fool's hope."

A fool's hope? Somehow that sounded familiar. Nah, never mind. "Original Cindy takes it the chick didn't return?"

"Chick?" This actually earned a quiet chuckle. "Don't let her hear that. But no, she didn't return. Eventually I heard something that put me back on her trail. I gathered everything I had and stepped on a plane to some small town in Florida. That's where she was, but by the time I arrived..."

As he trailed of Original Cindy didn't need to be able to predict the future to know what came next. "She was gone again?"

"Yep, I arrived only a couple of days after she'd been there, but it was obvious that I was far too late. Not that I'd expected anything different, it was in her best interest to leave as soon as she could."

In her best interest? Why would that be? She shrugged the thought of, and decided to switch the subject first. "Do ya know why she wanted to come here?"

"Here as in Seattle, or here as in here?"

"Here, why she'd wanna talk to the cops."

Dave merely shrugged. "No idea, but that's nothing new. She likes to toy with the people around her. Don't ask me why, I figure she does it to make life more interesting, to have something other than revenge to live for."

Revenge? A niggling suspicion was starting to raise its voice in the back of her head, but she had no intention to voice it until she was sure. "So, what happened after Florida?"

"I spent a couple of days in Florida, looking for clues on where she might've gone, when I heard another story placing her in Phoenix, Arizona. So, I followed her there, only to have the same thing happen. Every time, I was a couple of days behind her until I couldn't afford it anymore."

"Ya were out o' money?"

"Yeah, I did have some. After taking my purpose in life, she had been kind enough not to take my money as well. Not that she needed it, because she had a lot more than I did. After all, she was the one who earned all the fees. Despite her nonsense about a boss." That last part was whispered in a voice that sounded filled with betrayal, and Original Cindy figured she probably hadn't been meant to hear it.

"You gave up?"

The reaction was immediate and strong. "No, never. I would never give up. Not then. It was only a couple of months since she'd left me, and I still loved her more than anything. But I had to give up following her in person, I was still able to read about what she'd done and I made some contacts in that time who helped me as well."

Read about it? Why did it have to look more and more as if her fears were coming true? She had to stay positive, and most of all not let the guy know he was giving away important information. "When did ya give up?"

"When I thought somebody had managed to outsmart her. When I believed she'd died in that explosion. That's when I decided to go on with my life without her."

Original Cindy knew she'd been right then, some small town in Florida, then Phoenix, and eventually an explosion. But it was just too obvious, why would he tell her all this? "When was this?"

"September 2003, at least the explosion." The Soldier Hunter. Oh god. She hadn't gotten in the army herself until more than a decade later, but that didn't mean there were no more stories left. The unstoppable Hunter who killed soldiers everywhere she could. Who tortured them on a daily basis, and who was finally stopped by the legendary hero Riley Finn.

During her stint in the army the name Finn had become synonymous with sacrificing yourself for the greater good. 'Doing a Finn' they called it, and more than a couple of people had received the Medal of Honor for doing so. Postmortem of course. But now it seemed the woman was still alive.

"So when did you figure out she was still alive?"

"A couple of years later, first I started to hear rumors about her. Rumors that nobody connected with her previous identity, but that I knew were connected to her." He'd figured out a business woman was actually the Soldier Hunter? Well, he knew her name so it made sense.

Dave went on with his story though, apparently not noticing how she reacted to it. "But by that time I'd moved on. Or so I believed. And besides, this time I too had no idea of why she was doing what she was doing. I believed she'd gotten her revenge already."

He was a lot more obvious now, except that it didn't make any sense. What did being rich have to do with revenge? 'If you're like them, why-' That's what he'd said. Was he here to stop this Soldier Hunter? But why would the Soldier Hunter...

Oh god. Nobody connected the dots. He'd known she was coming here. A new identity. Oh god. He wasn't talking about Summers the businesswoman. Gulping in air to stop herself from hyperventilating, Original Cindy realized just who the woman was. Realized just who she'd been talking to these past hours. She should tell the police officer. The woman planning to kill her friend was here.

Her behavior must have given her away, because this time when Dave spoke he didn't even bother being circumspect. "I don't know why she killed those people. Nor do I know why she stopped. Or why she suddenly started a business empire in France. I do know why she's here, but I have no idea on how to stop her."

"Stop her? You really don't love her anymore? No, how could you have ever loved anything like her?"

"Hey! Don't fool yourself. She's a lot better, in every possible way, than the media made her out to be. And while she might hide her emotions, listening to _Canta per me_ made her cry."

_Canta per me?_ What the hell was that? Probably some song or something. "She's a cold-blooded killer. We must stop her, no matter how you feel about her." Because if they didn't, Max would get killed. And as Max was willing to do anything for her, so was she prepared to do anything for her boo.

"And how do you figure we can do that? I don't know if you noticed it earlier, but she hit me faster than any human I've ever seen. She wasn't that fast when she left me, and back then she was already at the top of the game."

"Aiight, so she's better than us. We can tell the cops. They'll stop her."

He nodded in agreement. "Them or the bounty hunters."

"Bounty hunters?" Were there bounty hunters here?

"Yeah, the ones around us here."

"Right, so we just shout who she is an' anyone who wants to can fight her?"

"We'd be the first to go. Dawn doesn't handle betrayal very well."

"So, we tell the cop standing there, that way we'll be safe as they'll take care of her inside the building."

"That might work, if she doesn't kill them all."

Nah, there were dozens of policemen and soldiers here, she couldn't take them all out, could she? "It'll work. We must do it now though, before she gets back."

Once again Dave sighed before answering. "One of the things Dawn taught me was that sometimes you need to look at the bigger picture first. I'm not sure if she's forgotten about that, it wouldn't surprise me after Sunnydale, or if she's looking at a different picture than I am."

What was he blathering about? They should warn the cop, but she couldn't help but explain why Noir had to be stopped. "She is. Max is important. There's this cult who wants to kill off humanity."

"Vampires?"

Vampires? How did he come up with nonsense like that? "Nah, real people. A cult, y'know religious freaks."

"Oh, one of those." Oh, one of those. He acted like he'd seen a dozen of them already and Original Cindy wasn't happy to hear the enemy belittled like that. Not because she liked them, especially that prick White who was constantly trying to capture her boo, but because it sounded like Max was nothing special.

"Yeah, but-"

She was cut of as Dave spoke again. "Here she comes."

Damn! Too late. Hold on. "Are those cops she's bringing?"

"Looks like it, doesn't it?"

And judging by the way everybody was walking, Summers was in command. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't tell the cops. If they work for her, who knows what would've happened."

"Yeah." Obviously Dave wasn't too sure what to think about all this either.

"Hey guys."

"Dawn, what's going on?" Dave asked, while Original Cindy simply did her best to act normal. No point in tipping off the psychopathic mass murderer.

"I've been released. And these fine men are going to clear up the streets a bit. It seems that there are a number of bounty hunters hanging around here. And as they're all guilty of one thing or another... "

"They can be arrested," Dave finished for her. Great, well there goes the other plan. With the police in Summers' pocket, and the bounty hunters being removed, it would be suicide to out her now. That left her with only one option she could use to save her friend. Well, one where she had a chance of surviving that was. A slim chance maybe, but a chance nonetheless.

"Summers?" the sergeant asked once the officers started their approach.

"Yes sergeant?"

"The captain told me to wish you luck on your mission, and he added that he'd prefer it if you didn't show up in his town again."

"We all have our wishes, sergeant."

"He figured you'd say something like that. And once you did I was ordered to tell you that no matter how clean you might look, if you came back he'd do his best to dig up enough dirt that not even the Council could get you off."

Summers only smiled at that. "Tell me sergeant, do you know what Council your captain was speaking of?"

"No ma'am. And to be frank, I don't care either. You're a member of the so-called elite, and in my book that means you're a profiteer. Making money from other people's suffering."

"That's quite a career-killing statement, sergeant."

"The truth is a harsh mistress."

"Now that," Summers told the stoic looking man, "is something I agree with. Very well, I won't be here much longer and once my business here has been completed I'll make sure to avoid your captain."

"He wants you to avoid the city."

"Like I said, we all have our wishes." Turning to Dave and her, Summers then continued. "Let's go."

They remained silent while walking past the cops doing their best to arrest bounty-hunters, and by the time they had exited the street that silence could only be described as oppressive. Original Cindy realized that it might just be her imagination, but she was desperately hoping that either of the other two would speak up. If they didn't start talking soon she didn't know what she'd do.

Thankfully, her wish was soon answered before she became truly unable to hide her opinion of the woman walking next to her. "Dawn?"

"Yes?" Summers answered Dave.

"What council?"

A smile appeared on the woman's face as she heard that question. What was so funny about this? "The one Buffy worked for."

"Right." They walked on for maybe another hundred meters, before Dave spoke up again.

"You never told me your sister worked for anyone."

"I know."

"Look, I may like Star Wars, but you can take it a bit too far."

"Really? You mean you're not going to tell me that overconfidence is my weakness?" Summers sounded bitter, almost as if she felt betrayed. No, she couldn't know. If she did she would have said something, right?

"I don't know if you even have a weakness," the sullen sounding answer came.

"Everybody has a weakness. You know that, I just hide mine better." Summers was starting to sound dejected, did she feel betrayed by Dave?

"Are you alright Dawn? I don't know, you sound kinda funny."

"Do you believe everybody has a purpose in life? Something for which we were put on this earth?"

Original Cindy chanced a look at Dave, catching him rolling his eyes. And he'd said Summers was a good actor. "I thought we've discussed this already. Like twenty years ago? Neither of us believes in that kind of nonsense, remember?"

"There was a prophecy that said Buffy was going to die you know."

"Really? You've never mentioned this before, did it come true?" Talk about tactless. Could the man have possibly thought of an even harsher way to rub the wound in?

"It did, but she was revived. Less then a year later she was killed again. Was that because she'd already fulfilled her purpose?"

"How should I know? I don't believe there are any superior beings, remember? It was hard enough to believe in things like that blonde chick."

"Harmony, yes I know you had trouble with that."

This conversation was really starting to weird her out, but luckily they had reached their destination. The old building was part of the barricade around Terminal City, but as nobody seemed to be aware that it had came with a back door, Logan had been able to buy it. And since he'd told Max about it, it had been turned into the unofficial entrance.

"We're here."

"Great," Summers in that same dead voice. "I believe this is where we part then?"

What? And leave her alone with the woman? She didn't think so. Sure there were a large number of people on the other side of the door that would help her, but until she'd reached them, she wanted at least some backup. "Nah, he can come too."

A deep sigh came from Summers then. "Alright. Faith in your friends it is then."

"Sorry?" Original Cindy asked. But when she looked at Dave for clarification she saw how all the color had left his face. Oh oh. Something wasn't right here. And it was that moment that she was sure. Summers knew.

With trembling hands she used her key to open the front door, before leading the two others through the building. It really needed to be cleaned though, Original Cindy thought while looking at the footprints that were clearly visible on the dust-covered floor. Immediately following that thought she shook her head in an attempt to clear it while replacing it with almost pure panic.

What was she doing? Why was she leading her friend's would-be murderer to that same friend? Because she might not survive not doing so? That might be a good reason, but she was also pretty sure that Summers, no Soldier Hunter, no Noir, already knew. No matter how good she tried to hide her opinion and fear of the woman, something would be getting through.

She had never thought of this building as dark before, in her mind it had always been the way she could reach her friend, but walking through it alongside an assassin she noticed the spooky parts. A creaking board here, uncleaned cobwebs there, even the damp smell caused by the leaking water pipe. It all added up in her mind, until she was sure she looked as jumpy as a cat at a dog show.

In order to increase the creepyness even more, nobody said a word during their walk, until they finally reached the door and it was time for her to announce herself. Knocking on the entrance she waited for a response while listening to the final conversation between Summers and Dave.

"Thank you Dave."

"For what?"

Turning around, Original Cindy could see that a wan smile was the only answer that followed, before her attention was redirected to the door. "Who is it?"

"Original Cindy," she tried to say in as calm a voice as possible while stepping closer to the peephole. Having gone through this before, she wasn't surprised when the lights suddenly flickered on to help them identify her.

"Are you alone?"

Please, please, they had to help her. She was begging for all she was worth without actually speaking the words. "No, I'm bringing two guests." From the flicker of the guy's eyes she could see he had noticed the other two by now, and obviously he didn't like what he saw. But he didn't seem to have noticed her expression.

"I'm sorry, but only people on the list can come in. You'll have to go back." No! Why couldn't he read her face? That wasn't what she wanted. They had to let her in and kill Summers.

"I can't, the woman with me needs to see Max. It's important."

"Woman?" was suddenly whispered through the door. "Her?"

"Yes," she almost sobbed, all too aware of the piercing gaze from that woman.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it. Step back." Yes! Yes!

She stepped away from the door, when suddenly everything happened at once. An extra set of lights suddenly turned on, blinding her, she could hear someone falling to the ground, the door was being thrown open and she could hear people coming trough, and most importantly she could feel an arm snaking around her neck. Holding her in an iron grip.

X.X.X

Max had to admit that her friends had been right. The two transgenics that were now walking towards her were indeed very ugly. So ugly in fact that she couldn't even tell what animal they'd been crossed with. Nomilies? Probably, she figured. They looked pretty old too. But that was probably due to their non-human DNA, after all they couldn't be older than Joshua.

"Ma'am! Reporting as ordered maam!" the first of the two shouted as they reached her, immediately jumping into a salute.

Oh great, more people that went around saluting her. That was one of those things she hated about being in command. But she had to play along.

Returning the salute she told them to stand at ease. "Alright. The two of you are among the only people here I haven't met yet. So why don't we go to my office and talk some there."

The eager glint in their eyes made her every instinct scream that this wasn't a good idea, but she quickly shook it off. The chances of any transgenic betraying her to White after what that man had done were simply nonexistent.

"Ma'am! By your command ma'am." Great, couldn't they lighten up a bit? The two of them had probably been alone since Manticore burned down, but that didn't mean they had to act as if Lydecker was here.

"Right, follow me then." She turned around, clearly showing her back to them so they'd know she trusted them, and led them to the small room across the command-center.

From the corner of her eye she noticed Mole coming with her, obviously he didn't trust these two enough to let her talk to them alone. This time she would allow it, but she did need to speak to him about that behavior. It couldn't be good for morale if it looked as if she was too afraid to talk to a couple of nomilies alone.

Inside the office she motioned for her two newest soldiers to take a seat, while taking a moment to study them. The first thing she'd noticed about them was that they were green. And not just any kind of green, no they were nearly fluorescent green. The kind of green that couldn't possibly be the color of a healthy animal. Besides their color though, there was something else that made them stand out. They stunk.

Sure, a number of the transgenics were hard on her sensitive nose, but this seemed to reach a new level. Which of course explained why they had traveled alone. Poor guys. Aside from their color and odor though, there wasn't really anything about them that she could name that set them apart from the other transgenics. And yet, she felt the same way Alec probably had. There was something about them, something that put the hairs on the back of her neck on end.

"What are your names?"

"You can call me Jack, and he's Daniels."

"Funny, come up with it yourself?"

"It was either that or Johnny and Walker."

She chuckled a bit at their attempt at humor, but still wasn't able to completely relax. Why did she feel like she had to either run, or attack? Fight or flight, she thought dimly. No matter, these transgenics deserved the same treatment all the others had. "So, how did you get here?"

"We were on an undercover mission when Manticore became public," Jack started. "We decided to remain where we were for the time being, and only traveled to Seattle when we heard about this place."

They were undercover? Ugh, no matter how open she tried to be, she did not want to know where these two might not be noticed. A colony of blind people living in the sewers perhaps? No, too much information there. "Was it easy to get here? Or were you bothered by the police and military?"

"No problems, we have ways we can travel without being noticed." Right, maybe they had some kind of chameleon-like cloaking or something. Which would also make their earlier explanation more plausible. The colony living in the sewers didn't necessarily have to be blind.

"That's good to hear, now-" A knock on the door interrupted her next question, and she told the person at the door to enter. "What is it?"

"We have a situation at the back entrance, ma'am," the X-6 told her.

"Is it important?" Duh Max, otherwise he wouldn't have come, now would he?

"Yes ma'am."

Before she had a chance to tell him she was coming, Mole spoke up. "I'll go and look what's it about Max, why don't you continue this."

Her eyes narrowing in suspicion, Max asked her next question. "Why?"

"If this is what I think it is, it might be best if you weren't present."

Right, so he did think it was Noir. Which was something she really needed to be there for. "I-"

"Trust me Max. Whatever it is, I won't let anything happen without informing you."

Well, that was a compromise she could live with. It didn't make her happy, but she could deal with it. "Aiight. You go check this out, I'll be there in twenty minutes or so."

"Right," Mole acknowledged while getting up from his chair and walking to the door. "You have fun here too."

Turning back to the two transgenics she'd planned to speak to, she tried to get back into the conversation, but couldn't get her mind set on it. Momentarily she looked at the golden rings the two wore, in an attempt to center herself, but it was useless. "I'm sorry guys, this just isn't working. Can we do this tomorrow? I really need to check what's going on."

"I'm afraid we can't do that," Daniels told her, suddenly sounding threatening. The fight or flight feeling had definitely returned in full.

"What do you mean?" she asked, but by then she already knew. The gun might have been silenced, but it was a sound so familiar to her that she could recognize it anywhere. Not that she needed to, she dimly thought as she crashed to the ground, the impact on her chest would have been enough to do that.

* * *

Post-fic comments: Well, at least I didn't leave you with a cliffhanger. :-) Don't forget to bug me about the continuation of this story. There's a nice little button below this sentence for that very purpose. 


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_June 2019_

The explosion was powerful enough for Dawn to feel the heat of the blast, despite the fact that she was standing over 300 meters away. Nobody inside had been left alive when the explosion had been triggered, but even if they had it was unlikely they could have survived the explosion or the ensuing inferno. And when she watched the roof cave in, a sigh of relief went out from her. She'd done it. She had achieved that which everyone had believed to be impossible.

Unless the Terakans would decide to send more people here, they no longer had any influence in this part of Europe. Dawn didn't even try to hide the satisfied smirk that crept on her face as she thought about how her adversaries would react once they heard about this. Unfortunately they weren't stupid so it was unlikely they would try to test if she'd notice the arrival of a replacement.

But she knew the Order was tenacious, sooner or later they would try to kill her again. Not only for the danger she represented, but to regain their foothold here as well. Dawn realized that if she wanted to survive, she needed to exterminate the entire Order. But that mission was far too extensive. With a history longer even than that of Soldats, it was impossible to tell exactly how widespread the Order was.

The Watcher's Council might know, but they didn't want any part in this. Dawn had contacted them for this very reason, but they had refused to pick a side in the conflict between Noir and Soldats. For once they had claimed the higher ground, although one member had admitted they didn't want to risk angering the victor.

This time she shook her head in dismay. It was incredible to imagine that those British fools were more than willing to try to punish a Slayer who'd made a simple mistake, but wouldn't take any action against the leading order of assassins. Leading. Bah, if even she thought of them as bigger than her, how could anyone else think differently?

No matter, the rest of this bunch of murderers would receive their due in time, whether she had the backing of the Council or not. Although she did wonder if they'd reacted differently had she told them that not only did their precious Key have immediate access to Noir, but actually was that assassin.

Taking out the Order wasn't worth destroying everything she'd built though. And besides, from reading the prophecies she already knew when her identity would be revealed. Well, as far as you could predict a time mentioned in a prophecy that is. At least Buffy had been directed to the Master at a specific date.

Once again she shook her head, took a deep breath of the fresh air that blew towards the house, and grabbed her radio. Calling for a role-call, it wasn't long before the reports came in, and aside from some light wounds it seemed that everyone was alright. Not that she'd expected anything else.

Her work here completed, Dawn turned her back on the burning house and walked back into the woods. The car wasn't parked that close, and it would take some time to get there. Nevertheless, she had a guest to entertain in Paris, and it wouldn't do if she was late.

X.X.X

She was late again. It never ceased to amaze Samantha how anyone as successful as Dawn managed to be late for almost every appointment the two of them made. In her case it didn't really matter, but from experience she knew that some people got so ridiculously upset if you showed up too late.

That didn't mean there were no limits to her patience either. Limits that she was starting to reach at this very moment.

Samantha had arrived yesterday, in order to surprise Dawn, but there hadn't yet been much time for them to catch up. She had arrived in the evening, but even during their short discussion then, her friend had seemed distracted. Yet when she'd asked what was on Dawn's mind, the only answer she received was some excuse about being anxious.

Apparently Dawn had an important meeting today, and it was for that reason that she wasn't here right now. To make matters even worse, the meeting wasn't even anywhere near Paris. Apparently it was somewhere to the east, Dawn had told her the city where it was taking place, but it wasn't one of the five cities in France she knew.

Still, she hoped her friend would arrive soon as she really wanted to continue their conversation from Ankara. The conversation during which she'd discovered that the two of them shared more than she'd previously thought. That she wasn't the only one who knew about the real world.

It was still difficult for her to imagine that another member of the elite knew about the secret she'd kept since her childhood. The knowledge that the stuff of nightmares actually existed. That vampires were real.

Even now, just thinking about it made her shiver in fear. She and Jeanie had been young and careless, no more careless than other people of their age but still careless. As the two of them were not only sisters, but best friends as well, they often played together. And that was exactly what they'd been doing on that night.

Jeanie was the eldest, and even at nine she had been far more adventurous than then eight-year-old Samantha would ever be. Nevertheless it had been Samantha who'd heard about the abandoned warehouse and the noises that came from it during the nights. And it had been her who'd told Jeanie about it in the hope that her older, wiser, and smarter sister would take her there.

Taking a handkerchief out of her purse, Samantha dabbed at her eyes, where was that blasted woman? She needed a distraction before her thoughts returned to that terrible night. The night that opened her eyes to the real world. When she learned that true evil existed outside of television as well.

But despite her hope, Dawn didn't show up, and knowing that she would never be able to distract herself enough, Samantha took a sip from her cup of nearly cold coffee and leaned back. The only way out now was to relive the memories and deal with them.

Again.

….…

"Hurry up, Samantha," Jeanie called out to her.

"I'm coming," Samantha panted, while directing her pretty shoes around a puddle of water. "But mommy put me in this stupid dress today, and I can't run in it."

Looking up she noticed her sister's wide smile. "I know Sam, why do you think I'm so happy she thinks you're the pretty one."

That was true. Her mother always fussed more over her than Jeanie, saying she had long ago given up the attempt to turn the older girl into a lady. Something Samantha thought unfair. Because while she had to go learn how to play the piano, Jeanie was having fun riding the horsies. Horses, Samantha corrected herself, mommy didn't like it when she said it the other way.

But finally she'd reached her sister. "I'm here."

"Okay, let's go on then."

"Is it far?"

"No, we're almost there. But hey, you're the one who wanted to go."

That was true, but they'd promised mommy to be home before dark and it was already starting to be that. "I know, but mommy…"

"I know sis, we'll walk a bit faster. Can you do that?"

Well, she did want to see the scary building Birgit had told her about. So, she nodded her agreement so forcefully it caused her pigtails to swish around. "I do."

"Good, let's go then." Jeanie started leading the way with long steps, while the shorter Samantha did her best to keep up. All the while making sure her dress didn't get dirty, so her mommy wouldn't get angry.

Even so it was still five minutes before they reached the warehouse, and the first impression she had of it wasn't very impressive. "Is that it?"

"Yeah, is that it? I thought Birgit said there were strange sounds and everything."

"She did," Samantha defended herself quickly, "she said that it was very scary."

"But it's just empty. Nothing scary about it."

A burst of wind, or something else, chose that moment to slam a door inside the warehouse, causing the two little girls to jump and look at each other. "Okay, maybe it is a bit spooky," Jeanie admitted in a quivering voice.

All Samantha could do was nod in agreement, while trying to hide behind her big sister. The sister who would surely keep all the scary things away from her.

"Let's go and look," Jeanie proposed, causing Samantha to look up.

"B-but it's scary." And it was! When Birgit had told her about it Samantha had seen going here as proving she was braver than her friend, but now that she was here she understood why her friend had turned around.

"Yeah, isn't it great?" Jeanie sounded excited, making Samantha immediately feel braver. If her sister didn't think it was dangerous, it couldn't really be. After all, Jeanie was older and smarter.

So, while ignoring the question about it being great, she did agree to go in. "But we can't stay long. See," she pointed at the sky, "the sun is sleeping already."

"The sun is down. It doesn't sleep, that's like magic, and there is no magic."

"Of course there's magic silly, Santa Claus brings our presents with magic, remember?" Jeanie shouldn't think that just because she knew a bit more, that she knew everything.

And her sister obviously couldn't tell her she was wrong, instead walking to the door of the warehouse. Trying to open the door, Jeanie encountered resistance though. "It's locked. Why did they lock an empty building?"

Duh, what kind of question was that? Sometimes her sister could be so silly. "So that people can't get in?"

"I know that," Jeanie snapped back. "But why? It's not like there's anything to steal."

"Steal?" Samantha asked with wide eyes as a very scary possibility suddenly came to her. "You don't think there are bad guys here, do you?" Because she didn't like bad guys, they were bad.

"No, there's a lock see?" Oh yeah, she'd almost forgotten about that.

But if the door was locked that also meant they couldn't get in. "So, we'll have to go home now?"

"Yeah, no wait. Maybe there's a back door." And Jeanie was off again, leaving Samantha alone, until she realized that at least. Once that happened the little girl hurried after her sister.

But no matter which door they tried, all of them were locked. And the boards in front of the windows prevented them from looking in as well. So, it was with a disappointed feeling that they arrived back at the front and Samantha asked the question she'd been thinking about since they discovered the last closed door. "Now what?"

"I don't know," Jeanie answered. "Maybe we should go home, we're late already and mom will be worried."

And angry, Samantha realized. She hadn't really minded the prospect of anger before because she believed this visit was worth it, but now that they couldn't even get in the only thing that remained was that anger. "Yeah, let's go home. I-"

She was cut off as the door was suddenly thrown open, causing both of them to let out a scream. "What a beautiful night, don't you think so girls?" the man who stepped out asked.

"W-where?" Samantha stuttered in an attempt to find out where the man came from.

Jeanie had already figured it out though. "You live in there? Is that why there are strange noises?"

"Yes, I live here. Together with my friends. Would you like to come in and meet them? We were just feeling hungry so you came at the right time."

Feeling hungry? At the right time? That was a strange invitation to dinner, and Samantha was pretty sure that her mother wouldn't approve of it anyway. "No thanks, we have to go."

Jeanie didn't say anything, probably agreeing that something was wrong here, but the man didn't stop. "Oh come on, you've been snooping here for over half an hour, I thought you wanted to see what was inside?"

"Uh-huh, but we're late. Mom said we should be home by sundown," Jeanie told the man, taking Samantha's arm to guide her away.

"You have a smart mother, but I think you should come inside anyway."

The man was really acting scary now. Her mommy had always warned her about men who'd try to be nice and ask you to come with them. They would want to do stuff to you, and while she couldn't imagine what kind of that stuff might be, it sounded very scary. Besides, it could also be a kidnap attempt.

While she had never been involved with anything like that, mom and dad didn't even think any of them needed a bodyguard, she had heard stories. And those stories were bad enough. Thinking about that, she started moving closer to Jeanie until she was right next to her, believing that together they'd stand a better chance. Reacting to that, her sister spoke again. "We have to go."

Instead of answering the two of them, the man's face changed and he turned into a monster. Samantha froze in fear, and felt Jeanie do the same thing, but that was only temporarily. A monster! There was only one reaction she could think of that might help in this situation. She screamed as loud and long as she could.

Luckily for her that scream seemed to bring her sister out of her stupor as well, but Jeanie had a better idea of what to do. Years later Samantha would think about what her sister did, and be grateful for it. She only wished it didn't have the expected ending.

"Run Sam, run!" Jeanie shouted while letting go of her and bending down to pick up a brick. The monster only laughed at their actions, but it wouldn't be long before he'd had enough fun and would want to eat.

Samantha hadn't budged yet, still far too frightened to do anything but scream and stare at the monster, but Jeanie pushed her away while bracing herself for the upcoming fight. It was then that Samantha finally moved and started running as fast as she could, for once not caring that her dress and shoes were getting dirty. And most of all, believing that her sister was right behind her.

Jeanie had always been there when she needed her, but when after running for a while she suddenly realized she couldn't hear her sister, she looked around. And froze in shock.

No. Tears started rolling over her face as she instantly realized what she was seeing. The monster was holding Jeanie, holding her in the air while the girl was futilely trying to hit it with the brick. Only when she threw it against the monster's face could Samantha hear something from that fight, and that was a roar of anger.

Next thing she knew, Jeanie was flying through the air, until she crashed against the wall of the warehouse. The warehouse she'd brought them to. As the monster then shouted something inside, more monsters appeared and went over to Jeanie. And when they reached her… "NOOOOOO!"

Her shout made the vampires, for she now realized that's what they were, look up from eating her sister. The first vampire, the one who'd hurt Jeanie now turned to her and with a loud laugh started running to her.

Finally realizing exactly how bad the situation really was, Samantha turned around and started running as fast as she could. All the while realizing that an eight-year-old girl couldn't possibly outrun a vampire. But she tried, she did her best, and when the creature finally caught her she had gone further than she'd hoped.

The vampire caught her by the neck and lifted her in the air. Taking a note from Jeanie's earlier bravery, Samantha too slapped the vampire on its arms while trying to land a good kick. "Struggle little girl, struggle. It won't help you, but it makes the blood taste so much sweeter."

It didn't have to tell her to struggle, but no matter what she tried, nothing seemed to work and she was quickly running out of adrenaline, leaving her tired and exhausted. "That's alright little girl, you tried. Not many people can say they tried as hard as you, but then aga-"

The monster's speech was cut short as it suddenly burst into a cloud of ashes, causing Samantha to fall to the cold and wet ground. Where she immediately scrunched up in a little ball, while screwing her eyes closed. She didn't want to see what had killed the monster, nothing human could have done that.

"Are you alright kid?" A kind voice asked, causing her to doubt her earlier idea. A monster couldn't sound like a girl could it? Why not? she immediately countered, the vampire had sounded like a nice man. So, she remained, hiding from the world and the monsters it contained, until something touched her.

"Ah!" Samantha screamed, while scrambling away and reflexively opening her eyes.

Only to see a girl, an old girl who had to be at least sixteen, looking at her with a concerned look.

"Are you alright?" the girl repeated, looking very worried. And this time, hoping that she wasn't making another big mistake, Samantha nodded. The girl smiled at that, and immediately asked another question. "What's your name?"

The vampire hadn't asked their name, this had to be a good sign, didn't it? "Sa-sa-samantha," she finally managed.

"That's a pretty name, I'm Alice."

This time it was the conditioning her mother had put her through that caused Samantha to answer. "H-hello."

"Hi," the smiling girl answered, "can you answer some questions?"

Once again Samantha nodded to indicate she could.

"Were you alone?"

Alone? No! "Jeanie!" In her fright she had almost forgotten about her sister. Maybe this girl could save Jeanie as well.

"Jeanie? Who's that?"

"M-my sister. T-the v-vampires got her." Tearfully she looked up, in the hope to see that the girl would now go for her sister. But all she saw in the girl's eyes was compassion and, although she didn't recognize it at the time, the pain it caused the Slayer to have failed to save yet another innocent life.

….…

It had been the first time she'd been confronted with the death of someone she loved. And even now, late at night, she sometimes recalled the expression in the girl's eyes. That expression that so clearly told Samantha what she'd done to her sister. The Slayer hadn't known, but that didn't change the facts.

She had killed her sister.

X.X.X

She was a bit late, but Dawn figured that wasn't really a problem. Samantha would understand, but when she'd entered the room she had been told the woman was waiting for her, she was surprised.

The normally active woman was just sitting there, staring straight ahead and hadn't even noticed when Dawn had entered the room. The only movements she made was the occasional dabbing of her eyes. Until finally, she took a picture out of her purse and stared at that.

"Hey," Dawn broke the silence while walking over to the chair facing Samantha.

Samantha jumped a bit, but had herself under control rather quickly, although she appeared to be rather ashamed about the way she'd been caught here. "Hi. I'm sorry for acting like a complete waste of space here."

"Don't worry, I've done my fair share of crying. Who is she?" Dawn accompanied that question with a nod at the picture of the young girl.

"My sister."

"Your sister? I didn't know you have a baby sister."

"She was my older sister."

Oh, way to go Dawn. She was curious about this sister, but it was clear that she was no longer alive. Instead of opening old wounds, she therefore changed the subject. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's not your fault, you didn't even know I was coming until I arrived yesterday," Samantha answered, obviously relieved at the change of subject.

"I still hoped I would've been here earlier. But it took me longer to deal with that particular problem than I'd anticipated."

"Like I said, it's alright. I kept myself busy today."

Good, it had been a bit annoying that Samantha had shown up the night before that last Terakan was to be dealt with, but now that that was over, she could focus on the woman. "So, I never did figure out why you suddenly arrived here yesterday."

"You didn't? I thought I'd told you," was the surprised reply.

"Oh, I know it was because you got bored at that auction in Lyons, but what made you decide on coming here?"

Samantha was silent then for a minute, probably trying to figure out the best way to voice her reasons. And when she eventually spoke, the reason didn't come as a very big surprise to Dawn. "I needed to speak to you about Ankara."

Ah, yes. Ankara, the city where she'd let it slip that she too knew about demons and vampires. Had she known how Samantha felt about those creatures, she would have spoken up sooner. Because this gave her an even greater connection to the American woman. "Of course, is there anything in particular you want to talk about?"

"You never told me how you found out they existed," Samantha started, although upon noticing her painful look, she quickly spoke on, "unless you don't want to talk about it."

"No, it's alright. You just caught me off guard there for a moment. Have you ever heard of Slayers?"

"Yes, one of them saved me, when…" Samantha trailed off, while looking at the picture of her sister.

Right, so if she had to make a guess a Slayer had saved Samantha, but failed to do so for her sister. Okay, she could live with that. "My sister was one."

"Your sister?" Samantha mirrored the question Dawn had asked earlier.

"My sister. I was caught up in something once and I found out about her then. She told me a number of things about the things that go bump in the night. I'm happy she did, but there are times I wish I never found out about it."

"How old were you then?"

Alright, she could answer these questions, there was no real danger of her spilling anything Samantha wasn't supposed to know and it might encourage the woman to speak up as well. "I was twelve." At least according to her passport. But hey, twelve, one, or three billion, who cares?

"Eight," Samantha whispered.

"What?"

"I was eight when it happened. Your sister, was her name Alice?"

Alice? She'd never even heard of a Slayer called Alice. "No, Buffy."

"Oh, it was probably one of her colleagues then." Samantha seemed to deflate again, probably having hoped that Buffy had been the one to save her. Which would have been a nice thing.

But there was something else. "It wasn't one of her colleagues, it was her successor."

"Successor? What do you mean?"

"Slayers don't have a choice about being Called, which is the name for when they receive their powers. But what it comes down to is that there is always only one Slayer. Only when that Slayer dies a new one is Called."

Samantha closed her eyes in shared pain, something that Dawn didn't need to do anymore. Too much time had passed since that night, and she had learned to live with that loss. At least, mostly. "When?"

"Not even two months after I found out."

"Oh Dawn, I'm sorry. How did it happen?"

She might have learned to live with it, but there were questions that shouldn't be asked. And to show that Dawn glared at Samantha, who immediately retracted the question.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that." Indeed she shouldn't have.

For a couple of minutes the two of them remained quiet then, until it was Dawn who broke the silence with that most mundane of questions. "Do you want something to drink? Your coffee must be cold by now."

"Yes please," Samantha replied.

Pressing the button that would call her maid, Dawn continued. "Well, now that we're both in a less than happy mood, why don't we do something about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"A party, I know you like them and there are a couple of people I'd like to speak in a less formal setting anyway. People are so much more approachable during these things."

For the first time since Dawn had entered the room, she noticed something on Samantha's face that might someday grow up to be a smile. "That sound like a good idea, yes."

The door opened at that moment, and Marie stepped inside. "How can I help you?"

"Please bring us a bottle of wine from the Manor, and a couple of glasses."

"Naturellement, I'll be right back." As the young woman turned around, Dawn refocused on her guest.

"You haven't tasted that yet, have you?"

"Am I finally going to be drinking a vintage from your fabled hidden vineyard?"

Ignoring the hidden question, Dawn nodded. "This vintage has been riping for long enough now to be found acceptable."

"It sounds good."

Of course it was good. "Remind me to give you a bottle to share with Jacob when you leave."

"I will, don't worry about that." Good, Samantha was clearly getting over her funk. She knew the prospect of the woman's favorite pastime would do that.

"You know, I have wondered why you like these things so much. Personally I think they're useful at times, but most of the time I get bored during them."

Whatever good mood had returned to Samantha, it quickly fled her face as Dawn posed that question, making her curse the fact that she'd asked the question. "I-"

Leaning forward, Dawn softly interrupted. "If you don't want to talk about it, don't worry, I understand. I didn't think you'd-"

"No," Samantha spoke up, clearly bracing herself. "I need to talk about this anyway, and Jacob would never understand."

Yes, talking to someone who understands you was useful. Dawn had figured that out for herself about a decade earlier. And so, she listened while Samantha started to talk about how she had convinced her sister to take her to the scary warehouse. During Samantha's monologue, Marie arrived with their drinks, but Samantha never noticed.

"And then Alice took me home. She spoke to mom and dad about how and where she'd found me, but they couldn't do anything either. It was too late for Jeanie, and I killed her," Samantha finished that part of the tale.

"You didn't kill her. It was an unfortunate series of events, but you didn't kill her." Killing someone is done on purpose, everything else is an accident. That was something Dawn clearly believed in and, as she'd never had an accident herself, she could know. Well, she'd never caused a fatal accident at least.

"If I hadn't talked her into going, she wouldn't have died," Samantha moaned while Dawn filled the glasses.

"Have a drink," she said while handing the first glass over. Hopefully the alcohol would dull the pain slightly, because she had no idea how to stop someone from feeling guilty. That wasn't exactly an emotion she had any recent experience with. "I'm afraid I can't really help you with that. I don't believe you killed your sister, but to be honest, I'm not sure how to convince you of that."

That obviously wasn't quite what Samantha had been hoping for, but it was all she could give the woman. "I knew you couldn't really help me with the pain, but still I'd hoped that…"

"Aside from repeating once again that it wasn't your fault, you had no idea of the dangers, didn't know vampires existed, and were only a child I can't help you to stop feeling guilty."

Why couldn't the woman believe that? Was she so immersed in self-pity? Dawn was baffled about how anyone could feel that way, but Samantha obviously did. The woman didn't continue speaking about it though, instead opting to change the subject. "But you asked me about the party thing, right?"

Silently indicating that was true, Dawn took a sip from the dry wine and sank back into the couch while Samantha was once again talking of her past. "After, after Jeanie died. Mom and dad became even more protective of me, never letting me take any risks. Not that I felt like taking them. Those first months, maybe even years, I was scared of my own shadow.

"I refused to sleep in a dark room, wanting the lights to be turned on at all times, and didn't go out. My piano lessons started taking place at home, despite the fact that my father didn't like that. In fact, the only thing I didn't do at home was going to school. My parents wouldn't budge at that, no home schooling for me."

Predictable responses, Dawn thought, but decided against saying so. Instead letting Samantha tell the story at her own pace. "I lost most of my friends during that time, and even he weekly sessions with a psychologist didn't help me."

This time Dawn couldn't stop herself from expressing surprise, that actually sounded as if the woman had chosen to go to a psychologist. Why would anyone do that? "Why?"

"You mean why didn't they help?" No, that wasn't what she meant, but Samantha was talking again. "I couldn't exactly tell him about the vampire thing could I? As far as he knew my sister and I had been attacked by a gang. Anyway, that's when I started liking parties. They were a way for me to talk to people without having to leave my house."

"In other words, you were hiding and the parties made you feel like you weren't a total loss?"

Samantha winced, but had to concede the truth in those words. "Yes, well hiding sounds so negative."

"The only interaction you had was at school and these parties. That isn't exactly a lot you know." Says the kettle to the pot.

"I know. But when you found out, weren't you scared?"

Scared? Huh, she'd never really considered that possibility. She could have been scared, but there had never really been any reason for it. Not only did she believe herself capable of taking out a couple of vampires, Buffy had been there as well. And Buffy would never have let anything happen to her in those early days.

And after Buffy was gone… well suffice it to say that fear had become a useless emotion by then. "Not really, but then I was older. But staying at home the entire day, didn't that get boring after a while?"

"No. I finally made my mother happy by doing the things she wanted me to. Learning foreign languages, learning how to dance properly, learn how to act like a proper lady. Trust me, my days were filled."

Well, that sounded boring, Dawn thought before mentally comparing their respective upbringings. The her from this world had spent her time playing with friends, and doing all the stuff girls do at that age. Which from the sound of it had been how Samantha had been before her sister's death as well.

Of course, when you compared those dancing lessons with learning the best way to kill someone twice your size and weight using only a toothpick it was obvious which upbringing was better. "Sounds… interesting."

Samantha smiled at that, a bit watery still, but a smile nonetheless. "You think it's boring."

"Actually, yeah." Well, why lie? She'd had some of that training herself so she knew what she was talking about.

"It was at first, but eventually I got to like it."

Right. Whatever. Time to get away from this subject. "So, how about the day after tomorrow?"

"What?"

"The party, how about we hold it the day after tomorrow. That would leave us tomorrow to have some fun."

X.X.X

For a hastily thrown together party it was a lot of fun, Samantha thought as she once again moved through her natural environment. Natural environment, just thinking of giving a party that title made her smile. But Dawn had been right when she'd said that, this was what she liked doing more than most other things. And as more people had shown up than she'd expected would be available on such a short notice it wasn't difficult to enjoy herself.

"Mrs Masters?" someone asked her.

Turning around, she looked at the man who'd spoken. "Yes?"

"I understand you're from Seattle?"

"That's correct." Now what did he want?

"I have wondered about this for a long time, but I realize the question might be considered rude. Would you mind if I pose it anyway?"

Right, like she'd just let anyone ask a potentially rude question. "I'm sorry, but I'm not even sure who you are."

This seemed to surprise the man. "Forgive me, I had assumed my reputation would have preceded me. My name is Bertrand Blanc."

Oh, him. Dawn had actually mentioned this guy. Apparently he was trying to take over Dawn's businesses, and while her friend pretended not to care about it, it obviously bothered her. Samantha's reply was therefore suitably frosty. "You're right, your reputation has preceded you."

"Ouch," Blanc smiled insincerely, "I take it you do not approve of my actions."

"The one thing I really don't like about my home country is the ridiculous number of law suits that were common before the Pulse. And as you are using those same tactics against a personal friend of mine… No, I don't approve of your actions."

"Don't fool yourself kid, Summers made millions over the backs of hardworking people and that wasn't all done nicely."

Had she been a valleygirl, Samanha would have reacted with a duh. Unfortunately she was raised better than that and would therefore have to respond differently. "And you believe that taking all that money away from her will make those people happy?"

"I want to see justice done."

"You want to get rich, and don't give a damn about the people you claim to be helping."

"Mrs. Masters, I will forgive you this outburst once, but please do not say something like that again."

"Or what? You'll sue me as well? I don't think you've had a lot of luck with that so far, have you?" Samantha asked, starting to get really angry at this miserable excuse for a human being. Making money over the back of her friend, how dare he!

"Haven't I? Your so-called friend might not have told you, but a week from now she'll be convicted. I've already ensured that."

He'd bought the jury, judge, whoever made the decision here in France. "You, you. I can't believe you'd go that low," Samantha hissed in barely repressed fury.

"I go low? I'd advise you to take a look at your friend's past dealings. Maybe you'll see the same trend I did."

"Really? And what did you discover then, oh great savior of the human race?"

"You can scoff whatever you want, but I have no intention of ending up dead like everybody else who tried to go against the pure and honest miss Summers."

Pure and honest? Even knowing the man meant it sarcastically those words just didn't fit Dawn. Okay, she was pretty honest. At least when it didn't concern anything she wanted to keep secret, but pure? Nah, there was no way that Samantha could possibly use that word to describe her friend. "So, you think Dawn killed her competitors? Or more likely hired someone to do it for her?"

"Yes."

"Personally I find that rather hard to believe, and I doubt you've got any real proof."

"There is more than enough proof to link her to several of those deaths."

"Is there? I spoke to her about it yesterday but from what she told me there wasn't even any circumstantial evidence. And if this was a criminal case, why hasn't she been arrested? Why isn't the police doing anything?"

"They've been bought." A conspiracy theory freak, great.

"Of course they have. But if that's the case, aren't you afraid that she'll kill you as well?" Answer that fool.

Unexpectedly, Blanc actually had an answer for it. "I don't fear for my life not only because I'm too public to kill, but also because I've taken precautions and made sure Summers found out about them."

"What kind of precautions?" Samantha asked, curious despite herself.

Blanc let a smile play around his lips before answering. "I'm afraid I won't go into the specifics here. Suffice it to say that were I to die she'll be blamed for it."

"In other words, if you're in a public area and have an accident that couldn't possibly be blamed on her, you'll still make sure she'll be punished?" Samantha asked indignantly.

Once again the insufferable man smiled. "Yes. After all, I'm sure she'll actually have engendered the accident."

"Right. Now if you'll excuse me, I see someone I need to speak to." Turning around she walked away from the annoying man. Staying polite around someone who only wanted to anger her wasn't something Samantha was very good at.

His words did make her think though, no matter how treasonous that seemed. But she'd known all along that her friend wasn't a complete angel. From what she knew of Dawn, her friend balked at physically hurting someone but even Samantha had to admit that Dawn could act pretty ruthless when it came to her business.

But never physically hurt anyone. No, that simply didn't fit her character. If she'd want something like that done Dawn would ask someone else. No! What was she thinking? Dawn would never hire anyone to kill people.

But still… doubt crept into her mind. What if Blanc was actually telling the truth? What if there was a side to Dawn that she hadn't discovered in the seven years she'd known the woman? It couldn't be, could it? She hadn't heard anyone else mentioning things like this, but was that enough proof?

If only there was some way she could discover the truth, one way or another. But right now she couldn't think of anything. Trying to put the whole issue out of her head, Samantha suddenly realized something. Blanc had never gotten around to ask his question.

Oh well, she shrugged as she looked around for a waiter where she might be able to get some wine. The man had already said it would be rude, so Samantha didn't have any intention of going back to ask him what it was.

….…

Several hours later Samantha was back to enjoying herself, and had finally gotten the courage to ask Dawn about the accusations. It might not be the smartest thing to do if Blanc had been right, but for once she'd allowed herself to indulge in a bit of drinking which stopped her from considering the risks inherent in that plan.

It hadn't been hard to find Dawn, all she'd had to do was walk up the stairs where her friend was leaning on the balustrade while overlooking the party. Obviously she still wasn't very comfortable with these things, but at least it had gotten better over the years. "Hey Dawn."

"Samantha," Dawn asked with a slight smile on her face, "I see you've been enjoying yourself."

"Yeah, well I first talked to White? Clear? No, Blanc. That's it, Blanc."

Dawn didn't seem fazed by that, which might have something to do with the fact that she'd had trouble remembering the man's name, or she was really worrying about nothing. "And now you have questions?"

"Yes," Samantha vigorously nodded.

For maybe ten seconds Dawn was silent. "Did he ask you his question?"

How did she? "How do you know about that?"

"It's one of his pet peeves. He knows you're still living in the United States and he's stated on a number of occasions that he couldn't understand why anyone who isn't completely stupid could live there. So he probably wanted to ask you why you do it."

Samantha blinked as she tried to get that information through her befuddled brain. And once she combined that information with the condescending manner the man had acted she got angry. "That bastard. He played me."

"Not everyone is as nice as you are Samantha, and Blanc is far from the honest servant of the people he claims to be."

"No shit," escaped from Samantha's mouth.

"But you still have doubts, don't you?"

This was awkward. It was bad enough that she had these thoughts about her friend, but to actually have them voiced aloud by said friend was even worse. Nevertheless, she would speak the truth. "Yes."

"Do you know of anything that could help me prove to you that I didn't do the things he's accused me of?"

Well, that's where the problem was. "No, not really."

"Neither do I. Well I could say the words, but where would be the value in that? If I did do it I would be lying, but I would have been lying to you for years anyway, and if I didn't do it…" Dawn shrugged, "I wouldn't be guilty no matter what I said."

That was true, but still… She wanted to know! "Yes, but can't you just show me the holes in his theories? That would help."

"I'm not sure if I can. There have been several cases where I was the first to take advantage of someone's death. Of course, they weren't always murdered. Most of them weren't, but that doesn't necessarily invalidate his arguments."

"You're not helping here Dawn," Samantha said, while trying to grab another glass of wine from a waiter who'd come to ask if they wanted something.

Before she'd reached it however, Dawn grabbed her hand and told her she'd had enough. Her supposed friend that is, bah what friend would stop another from quenching her thirst? Dawn then turned to the waiter. "She's had enough Andre, please let everyone else know as well."

"Oh come on Dawn, I'm still thirsty."

"You never drink Samantha, and now you've gone far enough that you've forgotten that. No, I don't think you'd appreciate it if I'd let you drink even more. Well, you would tonight but in the morning you'd probably want to kill me for it."

Kill her for it. "Great choice of words Dawn."

"Thank you."

That wasn't meant to be a compliment. Oh, who cares anyway? Let Dawn treat it as a compliment if it made her happy. But suddenly she remembered something else that had bothered her since she'd spoken to Blanc. "Dawn?"

"Yes?"

"Two things. First, I think it might be better if we'd continue this talk when I'm a bit more sober."

"You mean I was right by stopping you?" Hey! There was no reason to rub it in.

But Samantha wisely chose not to react to the statement. "And two, if there's such a hate-hate relationship between the two of you, why did you invite Blanc?"

Dawn's laughter was loud and caused several people to look up at them, but it wasn't long before her friend had recovered enough to answer. "Look at them down there Samantha and tell me what you see."

"I see a group of people who are trying to get the best deal possible from anyone here."

"No, that's what you think you see. The truth is a completely different matter. What you see there is a group of leeches. Leeches who would stop at nothing to gain what they want. Leeches for who the only purpose in life is to gain more power. And for what?" Instead of letting her answer, Dawn resumed her unexpected tirade. "Because it gives them power. All these fools care about is power, how much they can influence the lives around, and how they can gain even more power."

Well, that was a not very positive view of the world. And while she realized Dawn was entitled to whatever opinion she liked, wasn't Dawn doing the exact same thing? "Uh Dawn?"

"I know. You think I'm a hypocrite to say this. And in a way you're right. I am trying to gain more and more power every day. But that's different."

And how could that be different? "I don't get it."

"Blanc feels at home there between the leeches, doesn't he?"

The change of subject was a bit abrupt for Samantha, but she could still clearly feel the effect of the alcohol and so looked at the man Dawn indicated. "Yes, but as you said he's a leech himself."

"Look closer. For Blanc this is a wonderful day, he's at the top of his game. In less then a week he'll be in control of this very house and can give these parties himself. But he's blind as well. Look at the people around him, they try to stay away from him. He tries to befriend people, believing that is the way this world works."

"It is the way things work."

"No it's not. Friendship is optional, the most important thing when dealing with the people down there is trust. You're a prime example of that. Look at you, you believed I'd broken your trust and immediately you started drinking. No, even if Blanc had been able to continue his prosecution of me, he'd be a complete failure. To the leeches he would be someone they could never trust, someone who'd already destroyed one of them."

"Okay, I get that. I think," Samantha replied slowly while raising a hand to her head. Why was everything starting to get so blurry?

"And that trust is why I'm different. In all my life I've trusted barely a handful of people. Both my partners, before they either died or I was ripped away from them. My teacher, before it became clear what she wanted, and one or two others."

"That's why you think you're better than them? Because you don't trust people?" And did that mean Dawn didn't trust her either?

But Dawn was already shaking her head in denial. "No, what makes me different from the leeches is something else."

"What?"

"They gain power because they love it. I want to live a simple life, but if I do that we'll be doomed. No more humanity, no more power for them to enjoy."

This was getting freaky. Samantha wanted to know more, but as she moved her head all she could see was a blur. "What's happening to me?"

"You're a bit drunk my dear. Don't worry about it, just rest here for a moment."

"I-I'll do that." Was getting drunk supposed to take this long? She'd always assumed it was more or less instantaneous, or at least moving from sober to drunk while drinking and not after you'd stopped.

"Miss Summers?" Samantha suddenly heard behind her, causing her to turn around while Dawn already answered.

"Yes?"

"The police has arrived."

"Finally, I was starting to give up hope here. Tell them I'll be right there."

What? "Police?"

"Yes, they've come to rid me of an annoying problem who thought he could outsmart me. Don't worry, I'll be right back." Huh? It didn't make a lot of sense to her, but Samantha only nodded and went back to staring at the blurry crowd below her.

A couple of minutes later, at least she thought it had only been a couple, Dawn reappeared in the room below, flanked by a couple of police officers. Instinctively knowing that this was about Blanc, she focused on the man. It was all still a bit blurry but if she did her best she could make it out a little. At first Blanc acted surprised, but what she could see of his face quickly turned into happiness.

Samantha was so focused on the man however, that she hadn't seen Dawn move until she was suddenly standing in front of Blanc and smacked him with the palm of her hand. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? I'll sue you for that! Oh wait, I already am." Blanc then laughed loudly, until he was interrupted by one of the police officers.

"Bertrand Blanc?"

"Yes? What do you want?"

"I hereby place you under arrest for conspiracy to murder."

"What? Is this some kind of joke? Who am I supposed to have tried to kill?" Blanc started his tirade.

The police officers remained silent however, but Dawn didn't and spoke the words that had probably been mentioned to her earlier. "Dawn Summers, Avery Jackson, and Gustave Lamont."

The silence created by that statement was deafening, until suddenly both Jackson and Lamont spoke up. Samantha didn't know them very well, but it was clear from their statements that these were the wrong people to anger in such a way. And while Blanc was being dragged off while protesting his innocence, the two of them swore they'd ensure he'd be convicted within months.

X.X.X

The party had ended once the police had arrived, but Dawn was still awake. Conflicting feelings tore through her heart. Satisfaction that her plan had worked as she'd wanted it to, not that she'd had any doubt that the police would find the money trail she'd created from Blanc to the Terakan's private account. Or the letters she'd put in Blanc's safe.

No, that had all gone as she'd wished and with a hint here and there she'd even managed to ensure they'd put all the pieces together this fast. So that not only would the fool be arrested before the planned trials, but that it actually happened at a time that would make this party fun.

But satisfaction wasn't the only feeling that reigned in her heart. No, guilt was there as well. The guilt for what she'd done to Samantha when she'd first noticed the woman was starting to have doubts. It wasn't fair. She shouldn't have needed to do that to someone who trusted her.

But she had, and she would have to live with it. A sudden change in the air pressure at her back, and the soft creaking most people wouldn't have noticed told her the door had been opened. The sure sound of footsteps identified the intruder as Jacques, and she let down her guard before he could even notice it. "Yes, Jacques?"

She hadn't even turned around, but the man was used to her knowing it when he'd entered the room and he didn't sound fazed. "It has been done."

He sounded like something bothered him, so while turning around to look at him, she asked about it.

"It's not important, no it is. I'm sorry to say this miss Summers, but was that really necessary?"

Dawn knew what Jacques was talking about, and it wasn't the way she'd ordered Blanc to be killed while he was in prison. Especially as that wouldn't happen for over a year. No, he was referring to the same thing that was bothering her. "Yes, I'm afraid it was."

"You obviously don't like it either, so why?"

Closing her eyes in silent supplication, Dawn tried to explain her actions. "I had hoped she either wouldn't speak to Blanc, or immediately dismiss his words. In some ways Samantha is more naive than most children born in less fortunate surroundings. To her the world is still black and white, someone is either good or evil. I couldn't afford for her to place me in the evil column."

Opening her eyes, she speared Jacques with them. "Don't get me wrong, I like Samantha. She's a fresh breath of air in the usual stuffy world of old money, but I couldn't afford to have her fear me."

"How much will she remember?"

"Not much, she drank more than I'd anticipated. She'll probably remember one or two high points of the evening, but in the morning she'll be highly susceptible to another version of these events. By the afternoon she won't even remember having talked to Blanc, let alone doubting me."

"Is it permanent?"

"Nothing is permanent Jacques, except death and even that isn't always certain."

"So one day she'll remember."

"Remember, and hate me. Yes," Dawn whispered while tears started to gather in the corner of her eyes.

Taking a handkerchief she dabbed at her eyes, and looked at the wet piece of fabric in surprise. She was actually crying over this? She had killed hundreds and influenced the lives of thousands more, all without shedding a single tear. But when she had to mess with someone's memory to protect her identity she cried?

Memory, that was the whole point here, wasn't it? She'd messed with someone's memories. Just like Soldats had done to her, the one action she despised above all others, but she hadn't had a choice. Samantha couldn't be killed, she had her own part to play in what was to come, but she wouldn't be able to deal with the truth either.

"I'm sorry," Jacques said, looking miserable that he'd caused her to cry.

She tried to show a watery smile, but even that was hard to accomplish and she didn't feel like acting anyway. "It's not your fault. It's just that at times like this I really wish someone else could do this."

Jacques opened his mouth to say something, but she immediately cut him off. "No, I know what you're going to say, but that wouldn't work. The prophecies make it clear, I need to be there when it happens. No matter how much I hate them, they have proved to be correct far too often."

"I'm afraid I have some more bad news for you then."

This time when Dawn laughed it wasn't the freeing experience she'd had when Samantha had caused it. No, this time it was the desperate laugh of someone close to losing it, who knew that it would be getting even worse. "Tell me."

"A messenger arrived with a recording from Seattle."

"It has begun?"

"A self proclaimed freedom fighter calling himself Eyes Only had a recording of one of the X-5s who'd escaped in '09."

"They've started to reveal themselves?" Dawn asked in a resigned tone of voice. "Which one?"

"One of the boys, we're not sure which."

"Find out, and I want to know everything you can get me on this Eyes Only as well. From now on, Seattle is our top priority. And give me that recording, I want to watch it."

"Yes ma'am," Jacques said while handing her the recording, obviously he could still anticipate her requests.

It was time. _In the dark city of rain, the mixed ones will appear._ It was part of the second prophecy of light and darkness, and like all the others she knew all too well what was meant.

Transgenics had started to arrive in Seattle, a city famed for many things, among them both the amount of rain that fell there, and how hard it had been affected by the Pulse. It had started, and it wouldn't be long now before it would end.

Emptying her glass of wine, Dawn stepped over to the television set and put the small disc in the player. It was time to face the music.

* * *

Post-fic comments: Hope you enjoyed it, don't forget to leave some feedback on your way out.

kiwifruit03, MaxS452, Bob-from-Accounting, thank you all for your comments. As always they managed to make me feel better. There isn't much I can say that wouldn't spoil some of the story, so I'll remain quiet on that front. 


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_June 14, 2021_

Logan had made numerous phone calls and searches through databases, but around ten o'clock in the morning he had fallen asleep while waiting for the last lead he could follow. So when he finally heard the sound of his phone ringing he didn't immediately recognize the sound, until it penetrated the nice dream he was having.

Without really thinking about it, he raised his head from the desk and tried to find the annoying thing. Finally his blurry eyes located the telephone and while accepting the call he rubbed his face in an attempt to wake himself up. But even so he was still half immersed in his dream. "Max?"

"Logan? It's me, Bernie. I've got that information you were looking for."

Upon hearing those words from his friend, all thoughts of his dream slipped from Logan's mind and he went from being half asleep to full wakefulness. "You have it?" He'd known Bernie would come trough. In the almost two years he'd known the man, he'd never been let down.

"Of course, although I have to say that it wasn't easy to get it. Do you have any idea what I had to do to get my hands on this information? Any idea about how deep it was buried?"

"Bernie…" Logan growled, not in the mood for a lengthy conversation. "Was I right?"

"You might be, but before you go act on what I'm gonna tell you I want you to think really hard."

Well, he doubted that would be necessary but if it would help his friend sleep better. "Sure, now what do you have for me?"

"No, I mean it Logan. The information I've got for you is really disturbing."

Okay, now he was starting to get a bit worried. "Talk."

"I've been looking into this Summers woman for you. Now aside from the persistent rumors that she's from California, there are absolutely no records about her from before 2009."

"What do you mean, none? If she lived in California her records couldn't have been lost in the Pulse."

"If they hadn't been lost in the Pulse, it must have been during the quake of 2012."

That was a possibility, but it just didn't really fit. "I'm not so sure, is it possible that she got rid of them somehow?"

"Logan. What time do you think we're living in? If she offered someone a hundred dollars she could make her records disappear."

Great. Long live the Pulse and all it did for the criminals. "Do you think she did?"

"Maybe, or she never left any proof of her actions."

"Everybody leaves a trace, Bernie. You know that as well as I do."

"And she did."

Didn't he just say she didn't? "What do you mean?" Logan asked.

"She might not have left any records, but there's always the human factor. And trust me, the inhabitants of Los Angeles still remember when Dawn Summers lived there."

"They do?" Logan asked surprised. "But when I asked…"

"Ah, but you asked the wrong people. You only looked at how she is now, the rich and famous Dawn Summers. I instead chose to ask other people."

"What people?"

"The Los Angeles underworld. Where for years there have been rumors about a young girl who managed to scare everyone."

"You mean?"

Bernie chuckled at Logan's careful question. "Oh yes, there weren't many people who knew her name, but once I'd verified she was that girl it all became clear."

"And now we have our proof," Logan whispered.

"Well, no."

No? "What do you mean no?"

"No, as in no. There is no proof one way or the other."

"But you said-"

Logan could hear Bernie sigh on the other side of the connection. Probably just as frustrated as he was. "I know what I said, but following that path led me nowhere."

"Does that mean you don't have any information?"

"Oh no, gathering information from Los Angeles was easy. Too easy almost."

"Too easy?" That couldn't be good.

"Yeah, it was almost as if the people there had been told to expect me and to make sure I found what I needed."

"But you didn't," Logan stated.

"Well, I didn't so much find proof as another place to look."

"Where?"

"Seattle."

"Seattle? Why would you look here?"

"To verify a hunch I had. Like I said, one of the things that struck me about the people in LA was that they seemed to know what to tell me. I also discovered that they must have received those orders somewhere in the last two years."

"Hold on a sec, that doesn't make any sense," Logan mused, "and what does that have to do with Seattle anyway?"

"Summers has done her best to build friendships with people in Seattle for almost a decade. In fact, when you look at the entire United States, there's only one city where she has recent connections."

"That is curious, but-"

"But that's not all," Bernie interrupted him, "for the past two years she has focused even more of her resources on Seattle. From what I understood this had to do with a recording your Eyes Only friend made of a transgenic."

Seth? Had he drawn Summers' attention with that recording of Seth? But if that was the case why hadn't she done anything earlier? Because she hadn't been hired to of course, he answered his own question. "I don't get it."

"That my friend, is where we agree. Her attention has been on several people and businesses and you are on that list as well."

Unfortunately, that made a lot of sense. "Who else is on that list?"

"That messenger service where the hostage thing took place, including several of the people working there."

Sketchy, Original Cindy. Damn, that wasn't good. "Anyone else?"

"Some law enforcement types. A military guy named Lydecker, two NSA agents, one called White, the other Gottlieb. Aside from that some cops, including a captain and a detective, some rich guy called Victor Jackson, but not a lot of people I recognize."

So many? And that for over two years? Where had she learned about Lydecker anyway? Logan then connected something else he'd heard. "A police detective?"

"Yes, one Matt Sung."

Matt. She knew everything didn't she? But the whole situation was starting to make less and less sense. By now he was pretty much certain that Summers was Noir, why else would she be keeping tabs on so many people. Not that they all made sense, but still. "Thanks Bernie. I'll be able to work with this."

"I know. Anyway, there's more."

"More?" Logan asked. "This is enough to give keep me busy for the next five years."

Bernie didn't immediately speak, and Logan started to think the connection had been broken. "Logan?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever considered the possibility that Noir might not be the bad guy?"

"What are you talking about?" That was ridiculous.

"Have you ever heard of the Watcher's Council?"

Again that name cropped up. "I recognize the name, but that's about it. Summers has something to do with that, doesn't she?"

"Yes. Look, this may sound like a strange question but I have to ask anyway." This wasn't like Bernie, first the strange way he'd supplied the information and now this. "Do you believe in demons?"

For a moment Logan held out his telephone and looked at the display to confirm the caller. Only when he put it back to his head did he speak again. "Sorry?"

"Do you believe in the existence of the creatures commonly classified as demons?" Apparently he'd heard right the first time.

"What, you mean like creatures from Hell?" Logan asked, still wondering what this was about.

"Yes, demons, werewolves, vampires, the whole enchilada."

Logan's first idea was to ridicule the statement, but he had a feeling there was something else he needed to hear. Something that might tell him more about Summers than he'd ever wanted to learn. So, he answered carefully. "I've never seen any evidence proving their existence."

"Do you believe in anything that can't be explained by scientific means?"

"Like I said, I've never seen proof one way or the other." Where was this leading?

A deep sigh came from the other end of the connection, before Bernie continued. "Do you believe in prophecies?"

"Yes."

This answer seemed to surprise Bernie, Logan noticed, as it took his friend a while to answer that statement, and even then it sounded doubtful. "You do?"

"I'm not sure if I believe they come true, but I've seen prophecies and I know people believe in them. That may mean they are self-fulfilling, but that doesn't mean they aren't real." Max was one walking prophecy after all, even though they hadn't managed to decipher all of the ancient Minoan text yet.

"Good. We can work from there. It's hard to give any proof right now, but everything I mentioned is real."

"You mean the demons?"

"Yes, I mean the demons, and the vampires, and the witches, and the-"

"Alright, I understand," Logan cut him off. "Let's assume for a moment I believe you, what does that have to do with Summers?"

"From September 1996 to November 1997 she lived in a town called Sunnydale."

"Sunnydale?" Logan breathed, now even more certain of his suspicions. Wasn't it Alec who'd said that Noir hunted those who caused that bombing?

"Yes, the town that was bombed. Do you know what the original Spanish settlers called it?"

Once again he wondered what Bernie was talking about, but as he was mostly thinking about Summers and Sunnydale, Logan didn't really mind. "I've got no idea."

Getting up from his chair, Logan started gathering everything he thought he would need to convince Max. "Boca del Inferno."

Which meant… "The Mouth of Hell?" That stopped him in his tracks.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To put it simply? Because it was."

"Are you trying to tell me that there is a real entrance to hell, and it's located in some small suburb?"

"Used to be, something happened there to cause it to move. I'm not sure what, although the talk is that it was caused by the sister of a Slayer."

Right. A Slayer. "And what might that be?"

"A Slayer? Sorry, I forgot you don't really know anything about this stuff. A Slayer is more or less the ultimate bogeyman for the demons. Usually a teenage girl."

A teenage girl was the thing that scared demons the most. Well, at least some things in the universe were consistent. But he really didn't care about all this, he needed to get to Max and tell her about Summers. "Look Bernie, if you don't have anything important to tell me I really got to go."

"This is important, Logan. And there's more." More? Why did more and more keep coming?

"What?"

"Do you know how old Summers is?"

"Thirty-seven, although she looks younger. Why?"

"Noir was not the first name she used," Bernie whispered.

Not the first name? "Bernie, I really don't have time for these guessing games."

"She was known under another name as well."

"Yeah, you've already told that to me." What was Bernie doing? It was almost as if he was stalling for ti-. Logan froze as he allowed that thought to come to the fore. "Bernie?"

"Yes Logan?"

"Where did you get all this information?"

Silence greeted him, and he felt the despair rise. "Have you heard of the Order of Teraka?"

"A guild of sorts of assassins, aren't they? But where did you get this information?" This time he put an even greater emphasis and urgency in the question.

"Before you do anything else, I want you to remember that Noir has only two goals in her life. Destroy the Terakans, and fulfill the prophecies." Bernie was quiet for a moment longer, before saying the last words Logan would ever hear from him. "I'm sorry."

Staring at the disconnected telephone, Logan could think of only one thing. Betrayed. Never, not once had he had even the slightest indication that his friend would betray him. He worked for Summers, there was no doubt about that now, but even as he thought that, his mind started functioning again.

If Bernie worked for the enemy, why had he given away so much information? And above all, why had he done all that. No! Shaking his head Logan thought of something far more important. Bernie had been stalling, almost as if he was attempting to keep him here. Away from Max.

Not wasting anymore time, Logan sprinted out of the building and getting into his car he drove as fast as he could to Terminal City.

X.X.X

Her conversation with Dawn had ended hours before, but Samantha was still thinking about it. There was something about it that bothered her. She just couldn't think of what it was, and that was starting to annoy her. So, instead of spending a nice day shopping with a friend, here she was having doubts about that same friend.

No, not doubts. Why was she thinking about doubts? She was curious about her friend's behavior, but that was all. There were no doubts anywhere, she'd never had any doubts about her friend so why would she start now?

Or had she? No. Empathically shaking her head, Samantha turned away from those traitorous thoughts and back to the conversation she'd had that morning. Had Dawn been trying to tell her something? It was almost as if she'd been talking around something. But what?

Alright, let's go about this the right way. Focus on one thing and think that through. What part of the conversation stood out more than the rest? The mugger? The casual way she talked about the people who'd died? Or the way she seemed to protect that murderous bitch?

Taking a note block, Samantha decided to go for the mugger thing first. What had Dawn said about that? Somebody had tried to mug her, obviously despite the risk that she might be Noir. Now that she thought about it, that seemed rather unlikely. But she was going to write down the facts.

_Somebody had tried to strangle Dawn, as proven by the red marks around her neck._

_Noir was in town so nobody would normally attack a woman._

_Someone had taken care of the strangler. Where taken care was rather ambiguous._

Looking at the notes, Samantha knew that something wasn't entirely right about it, but she just couldn't identify her suspicions. Getting up from the chair she started pacing. Why would somebody attack Dawn now? Especially if you consider the possible repercussions.

Those repercussions were probably the reason that someone had helped her. If another lowlife had seen the attack, he might have feared what Noir would do about it. No, if the attack had already been happening it would have been obvious Dawn wasn't Noir.

And why was she having these traitorous thoughts again? There was no reason for it. Walking back to the table, she took the paper she'd written her notes on and tore it apart. No. She would not betray her friend's trust like this.

Turning around Samantha walked to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Filling the machine with water and placing the fresh ground beans in their place, she waited in the kitchen while the percolator did its job. Only once she started to smell the delicious scent of the black mixture, did she get out a fresh cup from which she could drink.

Like with the coffee machine, her movements where it came to filling her cup were familiar and swift. The first sip always tasted the best, and this was the case now as well. Carrying the cup of coffee back to the living room, Samantha couldn't help but consider everything once more.

Strange how Dawn's behavior started to bother her only now, after all those years she'd known her friend. And why her? Wouldn't that sort of action be more suitable for one of Dawn's enemies? Like that bastard Blanc?

Grimacing at the thought of that creature, Samantha considered how lucky Dawn had been in that instance. And what a lying piece of dung Blanc had been. How could she have ever believed anything he'd said? Huh? Staring into the void, Samantha considered that thought. She had never believed anything Blanc had said.

Yes, the two of them had spoken at that party Dawn had given but she had instantly dismissed all his claims, hadn't she? They had been so ridiculous after all, and once Blanc had been arrested she'd been extremely happy she'd done so. That man had deserved the swift and merciless justice he'd received. At least he'd deserved the sentence. And if she was honest to herself, she didn't really care that he'd been stupid enough to anger his fellow inmates that much.

It wasn't as if their reaction could have been such a big surprise after all. People died in jail, and Blanc was merely one of those people. But still, her memory was a bit fuzzy where it concerned that night. She had been drunk, but why would she have drunk that much?

Because she wanted to repress something? The thought came unbidden, but Samantha had to admit it was the most logical answer. What could she possibly have tried to repress though? Aside from the conversation with Blanc, that she barely remembered, there hadn't been anything special about that night.

'I'm curious Samantha, why didn't you believe what Blanc told you?' That's what Dawn had asked the next morning and, despite her excruciating hangover, Samantha had replied that it was simply too unlikely. At the time she hadn't paid any real attention to the expression on Dawn's face, but now she could remember the strange mixture of relief and sadness.

Why? Why had Dawn been both sad and relieved? That sort of thing had never made any sense to her, but that was what her friend had looked like. Sad and relieved… Hmm. This was difficult. 'She has killed people.'

What? Where had that thought come from? Samantha stood up from the couch, and once again she started pacing. This wasn't good, she was suddenly starting to imagine people speaking to her. Or did she? It sounded like Blanc's voice, but he'd never told her anything like that. And if he had why would she remember it only now? And with such clarity?

"Why?" Samantha muttered. Was there something about that night that would give her the insight she needed? That would be pretty bad as she hardly remembered anything about it. But she should try; try to find out what her subconscious was trying to tell her.

In her mind she went over the night again. She wasn't there for any business purpose, so she could focus on the social aspect of the party. Roaming freely through the room she had suddenly been stopped by Blanc, when he asked his incredibly rude question. 'You look fairly intelligent, why would you be so stupid as to live in the United States?'

No. Now that she thought about it again, there was something wrong with that. He hadn't asked the question, someone else had told her what the question was that he wanted to ask. And there was only one person who would be so blunt to her. So, she nodded her head in a confirming gesture, Dawn must have told her that.

If that was the case though, why was she remembering it wrong? Had Dawn mentioned it the next day? To make her hate the man even more? No, aside from that single question Dawn had refrained from mentioning Blanc. Maybe it was the drinking then? But that didn't make a lot of sense either; she hadn't started drinking until after that confrontation.

Which once again begged the question of why. There had to be a reason she had been drinking that night. 'You want to know if what he said was true, don't you? You think I might have had those people killed.'

"No." This time she spoke up clearly, Dawn had never asked her anything like that. 'I can't give you proof either way, but do you really think I could have killed anyone?'

"Shut up!" Samantha shouted at the phantoms in her mind, while grabbing her suddenly hurting head. "Shut up."

"Samantha?" Jacob asked as he came running into the room. He was still wearing his jacket, Samantha noticed despite the pain, he must have returned only just now. "What's wrong my love?"

"Hurts."

"Your head? I'll go get some ice and call the doctor, we can keep it cool until he arrives."

No, despite everything that was happening, Samantha knew she didn't want a doctor. "No doctor."

"But honey, you're suffering. You need help, and I can't give it to you," Jacob begged. He was so sweet, but sometimes that very sweetness was a burden. And today was one example of that. It hurt, yes, but while it showed no sign of lessening Samantha was certain it would be over soon. And once it was…

Once it was, something important would happen. She knew it in the very core of her being. There was something hidden in her mind that would answer every question she had about her friend.

X.X.X

This wasn't going the way she'd planned it, Dawn calmly thought as she held Original Cindy between herself and the transgenics. Not that she could see them, but upon their arrival at the door she had already spotted the various lights that had been supposed to blind her. Supposed to, because she had closed her eyes and turned away shortly before they'd been turned on.

And then, she'd had to move quickly. Dave had been taken out first, a move that she might have regretted in any other situation but was necessary here. The lights had managed to blind him, making it even easier to knock him out. Which was definitely a good thing, as she didn't have a lot of time to waste on him.

There was only one person in the entire room who the transgenics would hesitate to shoot. The only person here who was a personal friend of their leader. So, while the door had burst open, and Dave fell bonelessly to the ground, Dawn had attacked Original Cindy.

Well, attacked was probably a rather big word for what happened, but it was the closest she could come. Still keeping her eyes firmly closed, Dawn had moved only with the aid of her ears. Improved hearing wasn't the fastest skill to develop, but in her line of work it was worth it.

And while her right hand snaked around the woman's throat, holding her in a position from which she could end Original Cindy's life in one quick, but brutal, movement, she used her left to aim her gun at the place where she heard transgenics entering the room. Time for negotiations.

But first she needed to prevent Original Cindy from doing anything really stupid. So from behind the woman's back she whispered her threat. "Move, and you're dead."

As the soldier she once was, Original Cindy had no trouble following such a command and Dawn was more than happy as she felt her living shield still her movements. "Good afternoon, guys. What did I do to deserve this little show?"

No answer came, not that she'd expected otherwise but she'd hoped the time away from Manticore had eased them a bit. On the other hand, if they wanted to play the silent game she could handle it. Original Cindy figuring everything out, with or without Dave's help, had destroyed every chance of getting into a decent position to complete her mission. However, that didn't mean she was about to give up.

The silence continued, and she focused on what she could hear. The transgenics were moving. What would they try to do? There were far more of them, and all they really needed to take her out was one single moment where they'd have a decent shot. And as long as she stayed hidden behind Original Cindy they couldn't shoot her while she was facing them, so they needed to circle around. In any other situation this might have posed a bit of a problem for her, but not here. Not now.

She might not have the tactical advantage, but neither did they. Yes, they outnumbered her, but the transgenics would need more than sheer numbers to defeat her. Especially as there was only one way they could get at her back. Or would they try to call the police, either for help or to allow them to walk around her?

She had estimated the possibility of that to be rather low, but she hadn't wanted to take any risks. The fight with the vampires had been all the unnecessary risks she wanted to take. But even so, she didn't have any control over the National Guard, and with the police it was only the former Watcher.

Focusing on the stealthily moving transgenics, Dawn had trouble hearing their movements. So focused was she on trying to hear their movements that even the rapid heartbeat of her hostage seemed loud. But there was no way the transgenics could move around as silently as they'd need to if they wanted to hide from her.

Movement.

Her ears picked up the barely audible sign that the group was splitting up. A foot as it landed on a slightly creaking board, a slight scuffing sound as the grip on a gun was altered. The sounds were all still there, but they were spreading out.

This would compromise her mission, and picking one of the transgenics as an object lesson, her purpose was obvious. While Dawn was unable to see where the transgenics were, that didn't matter as she could hear them. The sound of her chosen transgenic's breathing was calm and controlled, but audible nonetheless. She couldn't afford to hesitate now.

In one smooth, flowing, movement Dawn pointed the gun where she had located the transgenic, and pulled the trigger. It was satisfying to feel her hostage jump in sudden fright at the sound of the gunshot, but scaring her wasn't the reason why she had taken the shot.

These were among the most dangerous beings in the city. Before her fight with the vampires the night before she'd already thought about the differences between the two groups, and how she had to adapt her behavior to that. There were a number of questions though, several things she didn't know.

One of these, and right now perhaps the most important, was the amount of armor the transgenics had access to. It made sense to assume that what they had of it was used here, at the entrance, but as the big bright spot on the back of her eyelids told her the lights were still on, she couldn't confirm it. Not what kind it was, who had it, or how well they made use of it.

That had left her with only one sure way she could take out a transgenic. A decision for which Dawn didn't need to read a prophecy. Only heroes had trouble with an action like this.

As the echo from the gunshot faded away, Dawn could confirm that the breathing had stopped. Nobody could dodge a bullet once it had been fired, not a Slayer and not a transgenic either. The only way to survive was to not be there when the trigger was pulled, something she had no doubt the transgenics were able to do.

"Enough," Dawn spoke up. That first shot had been successful due to surprise, but these professionals wouldn't allow that to keep them for long. And despite her earlier thoughts, they did have all the advantage they really needed. She was hiding behind someone she couldn't see, while they could see everything.

All that was needed for her to lose this battle was to give them a single shot, and everything she'd done for the past years would have been for nothing. "I had no wish to kill him, but I will defend myself."

It wasn't one of the transgenics who answered though, it was her hostage. The hostage that had gathered some courage. "Just shoot her guys, even if you have to go through me."

"I'd recommend against that. Your boss won't like it."

"I'm doing this for Max, you psycho."

"And how will they prove you wanted them to take the shot?" Dawn whispered loud enough that Original Cindy's could hear, all too aware that the transgenics would hear those words as well. She then directed her next words directly at the group. "Let's do this differently, why don't we all go inside and have a little talk with your leader?"

"As if Original Cindy's gonna let you get to her boo," her hostage snorted. "You wanna kill her."

Ignoring the woman wasn't hard, and Dawn remained focused on the transgenics. "I will surrender my weapons, if you let me talk to her. Or do you really believe that one of you can't take out a normal like me?" Well, maybe a not quite normal like her, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

The group remained silent however, obviously not interested in entering a dialog with her. Could they be waiting for someone who would make the call? Normally people stationed at a gate were allowed to make this kind of decision on their own, But then again, this was hardly a normal situation. The potential assassin of their leader was holding one of that leader's friends hostage.

A friend that just wouldn't shut up. "She's not norma-" Original Cindy started before a bit of carefully applied pressure stopped her from finishing.

By then it was too late though, as Dawn was certain that the transgenics had figured out what the woman had tried to say. Which meant it was time to quickly distract them, before they'd think too much about it.

"Alright, I understand you're waiting for someone. And you probably don't really like me much for shooting your colleague. Fine. Let's wait, how about a cease-fire then? You people stay where you are, and I won't shoot anyone else. And then when your superior arrives, we can dispense with all this unpleasantness." Sure Dawn, because people were always so eager to negotiate after you've started killing them.

"I don't think that will be necessary." A slightly raspy voice suddenly spoke up.

Okay, who could this be? Mentally she reviewed all the recordings she'd seen with transgenics on them, and quickly came to the conclusion that there was only one person this could be. "Hello, I'm afraid the media never managed to catch your name. Nor did my people actually, which is interesting in itself considering your age. I do know you're the one who was with Joshua, Max, and Alec during the Jam Pony thing. So, what's your name?"

"Why don't we start with yours instead? And while we're at it, why don't you lower your gun, let the girl go and surrender to us?"

"Ah, well you see," Dawn said, still from behind Original Cindy's back, "that's not going to work. I'm afraid that for some reason I might not survive that."

"I believe you just offered that possibility yourself, I'm simply taking you up on it."

Well, that was true. But that had mostly been stalling to find a way to get through the barricade. Something that she was starting to doubt she would be able to do. And that wasn't something she was happy about. In fact, she was pretty sure that if Dave had been conscious he would have regretted his betrayal. Oh yes, she would have made sure he did.

"Her name's Summers," Original Cindy suddenly spoke up, showing Dawn she'd lost her control on the situation completely.

"Summers, eh? That sounds familiar."

"There's some rich woman in France who's called Summers," another transgenic spoke up, causing Dawn to curse the fact she still couldn't see anything.

Original Cindy had obviously gained enough confidence from the appearance of this guy though. "That's her."

"Interesting," the lizard-faced man mused. Now that would have been interesting to see, what would something—someone—like him look like when musing?

But that wasn't important, she had to get inside and now with her initial plan ruined through Dave's meddling there was need for a new plan. Dawn believed the nameless man when he told her she wouldn't be shot, but that still left-

"Shots fired! Max has been shot!" a new voice suddenly shouted.

No! They were here already!

X.X.X

Jacob was worried. And not just a bit worried either. He'd been at a meeting, a meeting where he'd once again noticed that Victor hadn't taken Dawn's rejection very well. Why had she toyed with his friend like that anyway? Samantha had said that it was because of some sort of holy day or something for Dawn, but explaining that to someone as proud as Victor would never work.

Despite Victor's reticent behavior, the meeting had gone well. But when he then returned home he'd found Samantha on the ground, holding her head in painful agony. Had it been him, he would have taken a bunch of painkillers, but he knew Samantha's loathing of drugs too well to even consider offering that. It was only when she refused a doctor as well that it really started to weird him out.

Samantha could be difficult, he had known that even on that glorious night he'd proposed, but over the years certain things had come to light that he hadn't thought possible. The nightmares about her sister's death still plagued her, but what she probably never thought about was the fact that they weren't silent either.

There had been many nights where he'd held her close to him, like he was doing right now, in an attempt to offer the comfort she needed. During those nights there was always one word that kept popping up. One word that she apparently hated with everything she was. A word she never uttered to him during the day.

It wasn't until he'd heard it over and over again that he started to worry why her nightmares always contained vampires. What was it about those non-existent creatures that scared her so. At first he'd thought that she was using the vampires as a way to explain what had happened to Jeanie. Maybe imagining the attackers were vampires was the only way she could deal with her loss.

But then one night he'd discovered the variations on that theme. From the seemingly running commentary she provided in her dreams, it became obvious that the vampires were the only consistent part. Sometimes the dream took place at the warehouse where Jeanie had died, sometimes it was at their house, or even somewhere completely different. And it wasn't always Jeanie who died either.

Jacob knew that after Jeanie he was probably the one who died most often in those dreams, dreams where Samantha was never able to do anything. But there were a lot more people who received that same treatment, all of them people she was afraid to lose. Except for one. And while it hurt, he had learned to live with it.

In Samantha's dreams, everybody but her always died. Everybody but her, and Dawn. For some reason, when Dawn was there in the dream she survived. Never in the same way, never easy, but she survived. When and if Dawn turned up, the dreams usually took a turn for the better and Samantha would calm down.

He would have preferred if dreaming about him had that effect, but he knew Samantha too well to be jealous over something like that. Jacob was the one person she feared to lose more than any other, and if that meant she thought he was less capable of protecting himself than Dawn. Well, so be it.

"It hurts," Samantha whimpered again, causing his mind to return to her present predicament.

"Shh. Try to remain calm, I'm here and you'll get through it." Avoiding the towel on her forehead, Jacob stroked her hair in a soothing way. But despite his own words and actions he could feel his heart hammering in his throat. If this didn't get any better soon, Samantha was out of luck and he'd call for the doctor.

For a moment he even debated giving her a choice between the doctor and painkillers, but that wouldn't do. No, he was far too worried for something like that. Just like he'd been worried enough to ask her family about the vampire thing. But like he'd initially done, they'd believed it was simply her way to deal with the murder.

Was it? Even now sitting on the couch while she was resting her head in his lap Jacob wasn't sure about anything. During his discussions with both Samantha's mother and brother they had told him that initially Samantha had mentioned the vampires in her story, but after a while she'd stopped doing so. It had been believed by both Samantha's family and the aid worker that she had come to grips with the reality of the situation.

But that was where Jacob had his doubts. He knew Samantha so very well, and while she might have changed since she was young, but she'd never hid from reality. This had started him thinking in a direction he really didn't like. What if Samantha had only changed her story because it was the only way anyone would believe her?

That possibility made an unfortunate amount of sense, but it scared him. If vampires were real, what else could be? Did he even want to find out?

Looking down at the love of his life, Jacob couldn't handle the expression of pain any longer. Samantha had always been the strong one, probably both because of what happened to her sister, and how her father had died. He on the other hand had suffered grief only once.

When an earthquake ruined what was supposed to be the best day of his life by destroying his ancestral home. Oh, if only it had stopped at destroying the building. Jacob closed his eyes in remembered grief. He had lost most of his family that day, and the only reason he hadn't been among them was because of the beautiful woman whose suffering he was now trying to ease.

If she hadn't insisted that they'd go to Paris… Opening his eyes again, Jacob stared at Samantha for a moment. Having made his decision, he then gently lifted up her head while moving away from under it. Still moving slowly, he then picked up a pillow and put that under her head before kneeling next to the couch.

"I'm sorry honey, but I can't handle you suffering like this. I'm calling the doctor."

Judging by the lack of any change in expression on her scrunched up face, Jacob doubted she'd heard him and he started to move away.

A hand stopped him though, but when he looked back at her he couldn't hear what she was saying until he leaned over her. "Water."

Of course, he should have done that earlier but had been too immersed in self pity. Quickly walking back to the kitchen, Jacob filled a carafe with water and taking both a glass and straw he brought it all back to where it was needed.

"Here," Jacob said as he filled the glass and pushed up her head a little before putting the straw between her dry lips. Hopefully this would help. But Samantha only managed a couple of sips before exhaustion stopped her.

Checking the towel, he decided to make use of some of the remaining water and wet it again. The speed with which it had dried up made him worry even more. Another attempt to get her to drink proved useless, and he looked around for anything else he could do to help her.

There wasn't anything though, so recognizing he'd done everything he could to ease Samantha's pain for the moment, he left the room. Quickly he walked towards his office, for while there were phones closer by, that small room contained the only cordless one. Samantha hadn't trusted those things since the Pulse, but he'd always considered them useful and had taken one for his own.

It might be a bit stubborn, and perhaps even ridiculous when you considered the small room he kept it in, but right now he was very grateful for that decision. This way he could remain close to Samantha while he talked to the doctor.

"Sir, when did you get back?"

Spinning around, Jacob looked at Walter with surprise. Of course, he should have remembered the servant was in the house. And now that he remembered, he didn't hesitate for a moment. "Quickly, get the cordless phone from my office and bring it back to me in the living room. Samantha's hurt."

Walter would do as he'd been ordered, and in the meantime Jacob himself could return to Samantha, he didn't want her to be alone any longer than necessary. Whatever was wrong with her couldn't be good.

X.X.X

As she fell to the ground Max was grateful for two things. The first being Mole's insistence on her wearing one of the few bulletproof vests they had, and the second that these assassins were kind enough to shoot that, instead of somewhere instantly lethal.

"She's alive."

"The vest."

"Why?"

"The contract. If possible, make her suffer."

"True. But enough."

"Agreed, I'll handle it."

Great, they sounded like a couple of bad actors. But that didn't mean they weren't dangerous, one mistake was possible, a second one was unlikely. Rolling to her side Max did her best to ignore the pain in her chest. Because while the vest might have stopped the bullet from entering her body, the impact was still very painful.

The transgenic, she wasn't entirely certain if it was Jack or Daniels, vaulted over the desk separating them when the door burst open and an X-6 stormed in. Her attacker obviously hadn't expected this and he froze in surprise, not even raising the old-looking knife in his hand.

Time seemed to slow down as Max took everything in with her enhanced senses. Unlike the green transgenic, the X-6, Kyle, didn't hesitate even a moment as he identified the threat to his commanding officer. While Max was still getting up to her feet, he was already turning his weapon to the attacker closest to her.

The first shots nearly overloaded her ears, before she subconsciously tuned down their sensitivity. At the same time she watched the bullets impact on the attackers body, causing green blood to spray out. Green blood? She couldn't help but think that was a very strange side-effect of the genetic modifications, but she didn't waste a lot of time on it.

She had finally gotten back on her feet, and while one of the attackers was being taken down, the other was still a danger. Within moments more of her friends would have arrived, but she wasn't sure if that would be fast enough. The other attacker was already raising his gun, but not at her.

She wanted to save Kyle, but her path to the attacker was blocked by the continues fire from his weapon. And as the X-6s head was torn apart by the bastard's bullets, Max came closer to wishing she had a gun than ever since she'd sworn them off.

But there was something the attacker hadn't counted on. With the spray of bullets no longer barring her way, Max moved in. Moving faster than a normal human being could even dream of, she crossed the distance between them before Kyle had hit the ground.

A punch landed on his—Daniels she decided—face but that was only the start of Max's attack. The second punch caught the stumbling traitor in the chest, and barely a second later she'd spun around to kick him in the chin. Before anyone had arrived to help her and poor Kyle, Daniels was already lying on the floor.

But the downed man didn't give up, rolling to his side he managed to dodge her follow up stomp to his stomach, and tried to sweep her legs from under her. She was faster though, but while she was in the air above him Max had to dodge the sudden stroke of a sword. What was it with these two and ancient weapons?

Well, alright, she conceded while contorting her body in such a way that the sword missed and upon landing quickly rolled away, ancient but obviously not quite outdated. Maybe she should see into finding out how to use a sword herself.

Dodging the sword, and especially rolling away, had taken more time than she'd planned, which allowed Daniels to get up himself. The two of them were now facing each other, and in any other situation she would have made some kind of smart comment. But not this time, interrogating this one would come later.

Once again they came at each other, Daniels swinging his sword in a move that to Max's eye looked more like something meant to appear impressive than something that actually was. Still, she had no intention of having a meeting with that sharp edge.

Max didn't have anything to block the sword with. The only thing that might be able to halt the impact of the sword was likely to be Kyle's weapon. But that happened to be on the wrong side of Daniels. However, if he was unable to use his hands, the sword would no longer pose a danger.

As she got within reach of the assassin, Max made use of the way he constantly seemed to underestimate her speed by suddenly moving a bit faster. That way she was able to intercept his hand as it came down in an attempt to cleave her head in two. "I don't think so, buddy." Alright, so she couldn't help herself after all.

Unfortunately, Daniels wasn't the only one doing some underestimating. She had taken hold of his right hand, intercepting the blow, but when he suddenly reversed the direction that arm was going Max started dangling from that arm. Wow! How strong was this guy? While she didn't get an actual answer to that question, she did get another demonstration of that strength as his left arm came around to smack her away.

That smack hurt incredibly, and Max was pretty sure that it had bruised her side, but as she hit the wall that impact turned her away from the other pain. She hadn't even had the time to soften the impact with her hands, Max dimly thought as she slid down to the floor. But she couldn't give up, there was no way she could do that.

A quick glance around showed her where she was, and as she noticed Jack's knife lying close to her she didn't hesitate in grabbing it. Time to show this asshole what she was made of. Using her left hand as leverage on the cool floor, Max jumped back to her feet, a move that was only slightly lessened in its beauty by the way she flinched as she landed on her feet.

It all proved to be for nothing though, as before she even got ready to move in again someone took advantage of the fact that she was no longer in the line of fire and shot the traitor. Repeatedly. With a shotgun.

The first shot caused a spray of blood from the traitorâ€™s torso, something that didn't immediately make him go down. The familiar sound of a fresh shell being pumped into the chamber was closely followed by the second shot that destroyed Daniels' face by taking off almost the entire left side. Max barely heard the sound of the first shell touching the ground when a third shot was aimed at the only recognizable part of the traitor's face.

By then Daniels was already on his knees, and poised to fall over, when the shotgun was emptied again by tearing out another chunk of his chest. Only then, being destroyed completely, was the body allowed to fall down to the ground completely.

Once the body had stopped all movements, did Max manage to turn her eyes away from the body and turned to the door where the woman who'd saved her was looking at the corpse with loathing in her eyes. "Thanks," she whispered, not quite knowing what to do when faced with a hatred like that.

"He killed Kyle," Ariel answered, not moving her eyes from the corpse for a second. The shotgun too, Max noticed, had already been reloaded and was pointed at Daniels.

"I know," she answered Kyle's teammate—and perhaps more she now realized. "He's dead now though."

"No, he should have gone down from the first shot. There was no armor to stop the pellets, and he wasn't even dead after the second shot. The third appeared to kill him, but I won't take that chance."

Okay, ordering the woman to put away the weapon wasn't going to work and she had no intention of ordering something that wouldn't be obeyed. Besides, she could see how Ariel might want to exact revenge for this. She would have done the same thing for Logan.

Logan. Was Noir involved in this attack? How could that woman have managed to subvert one of her own? Two transgenics even, not just one. Carefully making sure she didn't get in Ariel's line of fire, she walked around the woman so that she could leave the office and step into the command-center.

"Max, are you alright?"

"Are you okay?"

"Those damned traitors."

"If Ariel hadn't taken that bastard out…"

While the words were all different, each and every sentence one of the transgenics said conveyed the same meaning. They were glad she had survived, angry that Kyle hadn't, and disappointed they hadn't been the ones to take revenge. This was the team spirit that to Max represented the positive side of her military upbringing. The way everybody would do anything for their fellow soldiers.

"Thanks guys, I'm fine though. A bit sore," or maybe more than a bit, "but alright. The danger is over." Hey, the whole fight thing had put it out of her mind, but there was something going on over at the entrance as well. She should find out what was going on there.

As she opened her mouth to ask though several things happened at once. Mole came running through the entrance, closely followed by a woman she didn't know, and Original Cindy. Which at first sight appeared to be a good thing, and she turned to them to ask what was going on.

Then she realized that nobody unknown was allowed to enter Terminal City, and she went to change her question to reflect that. The woman appeared to be between twenty-five and thirty years old, which made her too old to be an X-5, and as far as she knew there weren't any older models alive.

That question had to wait though, as suddenly a strange sound made her look back to the office. Just in time to see a flaming Ariel flying across the room.

"What?" She wasn't quite sure who asked that question, she might have even been the one, but within half a second every single weapon was pointed at the office. Something was left alive in there, and that something was far more powerful than she'd thought.

With a loud roar, both Jack and Daniels suddenly appeared in the doorway. Impossible! She could still see some of Daniels' scars, but even they seemed to be fading before her eyes. And Jack, Jack didn't show a single sign of the wounds that had killed him.

Well, obviously not killed him, Max thought as the guns around her started firing their deadly payloads at the assassins. How could they have survived? Instead of trying to figure out that question however, her mind froze at the sight that came next.

All Jack had done was raise his hand, and as if he was some kind of hero in a superhero movie that single movement seemed to stop all the bullets in mid flight. It wasn't long then before the last shot petered out and all of the transgenics were staring at him. "Step aside. Our contract is for her only, killing you would just take time."

As one, all the transgenics stepped in front of her. A move she now understood could only lead to death. Not everybody had done so however, the unfamiliar woman who'd just entered was running towards her attackers. Not even bothering to look, Jack waved his hand at her and this time Max could see the shock wave.

She wasn't the only one though, and the woman managed to dodge it. A feat that was impressive even in Max's book. Both Jack and Daniels seemed to agree with that, and without a word being spoken, Daniels moved to intercept the woman. At least, that was his plan before he took a good look at her.

"No!" he shouted, suddenly terrified.

This sudden shout, made Jack momentarily lose his concentration, and he looked in the same direction, blanching when he obviously recognized the woman. "Impossible. What is she doing here?"

The woman didn't answer though, and by the time Jack finished his sentence, she had gotten within range. Within range for what Max didn't really understand, if guns couldn't even penetrate whatever shield Jack was keeping up, how did the woman figure a single knife could?

But it did. The woman took the knife from where it was hidden in her hair, and threw it with a precision that seemed almost unnatural. And when it reached the strange invisible wall… it simply passed through as if it wasn't even there. Until, at the end of its arch, the knife ended up in the terrified Jack's forehead.

A strange sound shocked everybody, everybody except Daniels and the woman, as Jack swayed a moment before falling to the ground in front of him. And this time when he hit the ground, something happened that Max would never have expected in a thousand years. He started melting. With horrified eyes she stared at the sight, until the sound of battle drew her, and everybody else's, eyes back to the remaining confrontation.

A gunshot sounded, but the woman was no longer where Daniels' weapon was pointing. She had already rolled out of the way, and during that move she'd taken another knife from somewhere. That knife's flight went as straight as the first, but Daniels managed to move to his side just in time for the weapon to pass by his head.

The woman almost seemed to have anticipated that however, as she hadn't hesitated for even a single moment after throwing the knife. And Max felt her eyes grow as she watched the battle that took place when the woman finally reached her target. Because target was the only way she could describe how the woman acted towards Daniels.

The crunching sound as Daniels' knee was shattered by the very first blow that landed told her that this woman definitely knew what she was doing. Despite her earlier doubts it also became apparent that the woman was a transgenic after all. She was simply moving too fast for her not to be.

A second kick, and a slice with yet another knife that had suddenly appeared in her hands, and Daniels went down to the ground. The woman then quickly gathered the other knife from the puddle of slime that had once been Jack, and stabbed it in Daniels' forehead causing another of those strange sounds.

And then, as suddenly as the whole thing had started, it was over. Her attackers were dead, and Max really doubted they'd be able to get up again this time. There was something about being turned into a puddle of goo that convinced her of that.

"What the fuck just happened?" Mole was the first to speak. "What kind of freaks were they?"

Instead of answering him though, the woman started gathering her knives, looking disapprovingly at the edge of the knife she'd used for ending the traitors' lives. Max had gotten curious about this woman now though, somebody who seemed to have her own opinion about guns, and walked over to her. "Hey, thanks."

Once again, the woman didn't respond, although she briefly closed her eyes in almost silent supplication. Completely ignoring Max, a rather rude thing to do in her opinion, she then walked closer to the office where she picked up the shotgun that Ariel had dropped earlier.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't take a gun!" Mole shouted, while running over. What was going on here? Max thought, before looking back at the woman. And the business end of that shotgun.

"Renfro," was all the woman said.

What? Was that her name? If so, she was off to a very bad start, not that the whole gun pointing thing was good. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

While saying those words, Max looked in the woman's eyes for the first time and went silent. There was nothing there that even resembled emotion. Max's eyes flashed to the slime puddles representing the assassins who'd managed to kill two X-6s, and while swallowing the lump in her throat she suddenly realized who she was facing. Noir had arrived to kill her.

"Renfro, did you kill Renfro?"

* * *

Post-fic comments: Ah, aren't cliffhangers nice? Anyway, as some people have pointed out in reviews, they're surprised at how few reviews there actually are. There is a rather easy solution for that, and a review doesn't necessarily have to be long (although I do like those). But in the end pushing the review button is a rather simple move, and typing a couple of words doesn't take very long. 

Xelab, well here is the chapter you've been waiting for. I hope you're not dissapointed... Let me prepare you though, the next chapter will once again be a flashback one. Although that should explain a bit of what's going on here.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_September 2020_

As the wind was blowing through her hair, Dawn couldn't help letting out a burst of laughter. The joy she felt within her was simply too great to contain, ensuring she didn't even try. Closing her eyes for a moment she concentrated fully on the feeling of the wind, only opening them again when she estimated they had almost reached the woods.

Guiding the horse onto a path leading deeper into those woods, she had already come to the conclusion that the reports were right, but still wanted to do a bit more. Although slowing down a bit to compensate for the treacherous underground, Dawn still noticed how smoothly the horse was moving over the twisting path. Nothing seemed to bother it, no turn was missed, no obstacle was too difficult. Obviously a well trained horse.

But the most important thing was how even after doing things like this for several hours, the horse still didn't show the slightest sign of fatigue. Almost as if she had mounted it mere minutes ago. Exactly as it was supposed to.

And to think this horse was only second generation. It was simply incredible what her people had achieved to get this far. When the sun suddenly broke through an opening in the canopy, Dawn was reminded of the rest of the world and took a quick look at her watch. With a sigh she realized it was time to return, it had been fun to get away from her usual busy lifestyle for a moment, but everything came to an end, both the good and the bad.

It was just that she was getting a bit fed up with everything now. Running a business empire of this size simply wasn't what she'd been trained for. Sure, so far everything was going alright. But how long would that last? Oh, who cared anyway? For a couple of minutes, she allowed the rhythmic motion of the horse drive all thoughts from her head.

Leaving the woods, she sped up again until she reached the village where she then slowed the animal down to a walk. There was no need for hurrying here, and it allowed her a good look at the people who considered her their ruler.

In her own opinion, she was a pretty benevolent leader, although she realized an outsider might believe otherwise. Every order she gave was carried out, and unless they had a good argument nobody would even consider opposing her wishes. Not out of fear, not even out of love, but simply out of duty.

The duty that had been placed upon this village, and several of the neighboring ones all those years ago. Amazing how much influence something as inane as a prophecy could have. Without that prophecy, these people might have joined the world centuries ago. Instead, they had barely changed since the Dark Ages, using the most primitive of tools available and all the while waiting for her.

Well no, she admitted to herself while returning the greetings from a couple of playing children, that wasn't entirely fair. They hadn't used a lot of modern technology, but it hadn't been quite as bad as she made it out either. The villagers had simply never needed any of the modern appliances people people in the western world took for granted.

It was an easier life, a life that meant it was hard to take anything away. A life that had been made more difficult by the rare attacks of those who knew about the existence of the prophecies, but feared their contents. The Terakans. Just thinking about those murdering bastards made Dawn tighten her grip on the reins.

For the past year they hadn't dared to show themselves in France, and even their missions in the neighboring countries had lessened. They weren't gone though, she could feel it in her blood. She was certain that a number of them were at this very moment trying to prepare a mission against her.

It made sense, as she was probably the greatest threat to them in the entire world. Not that she would be deterred by their assassination attempts. In fact, it made everything easier for her as there simply was no need for her to go search them out. The Terakans would be killed. All of them would die, sooner or later. And once their precious Order would fall, she could pay more attention to other matters.

"Dawn," someone called from her right, and stopping her horse she looked over to see who it was.

"Edward," she returned with a smile as she spotted the Englishman.

As the man responsible for the safety of the village he was one of the few people she trusted almost unconditionally. In itself the village wasn't much more than the home of a fair number of her people, but it was also the path to the Manor. And if Edward did his job right, there would never be any need to test the defenses that had been installed there.

Not that he was always happy about having to live in a village of French people, but his past was one that made him very suitable for this work. Originally a member of the British Army, Edward had joined the Watchers after a demon had killed one of his friends. The Watchers weren't stupid and had immediately made use of his extensive talent where it came to defense.

Under Edward's supervision, the defenses of the Watchers' most important buildings and storage places had been improved to a level where it would be nearly impossible for anyone to survive attacking them. And while he had been satisfied with that job, as he knew that his work would protect humanity as a whole, Dawn hadn't needed long to discover his weak spot.

Edward was out for revenge, it was that plain and simple. But what he hadn't been aware of was that the Watchers would never let him have that revenge. His friend had been killed by a member of the Order and, as she knew all too well, the Watchers wouldn't go against them. All that had been needed for him to join her service was to point that out, and the fact that she, or rather Noir, hunted them actively.

Well, that and giving him the still living assassin who'd carried out the actual assassination of his friend.

The only thing she wasn't sure about concerning that situation was who had cried harder; the assassin as he was slowly tortured to death by Edward, or the Council as they found out she'd taken one of their most precious people.

"Do you have a moment?"

"Sure," Dawn replied, "how are things progressing here?"

"Not as fast as I'd like. This village in itself is rather secure, but it still lacks that shielded connection to the Manor I was promised."

Nodding in understanding, Dawn answered the unspoken question. "It won't be long now. From what I've seen these last couple of days, the builders are making good progress. They're almost done digging in the mountains and after that it should go a lot faster. Soon you'll have everything you've been waiting for."

Edward sighed, having heard the same words for months now. "Oh, I never doubted that, but until I get that the Manor is still vulnerable."

"Exactly how vulnerable is it? You can already communicate with the Manor, can't you?"

"Yes, I can communicate with the Manor and like I said, the village is pretty secure in itself. There are sensors all around the village, we've got a bunch of people checking all the monitors. Some gun emplacements, the usual. There's still a lot to do though. While the center of the village will be hard to reach, a lot of damage can still be done to the outlying houses. But the radios we now have," he shrugged, "well they might be encrypted, but they can still be jammed pretty easily."

The most annoying thing about talking to people who didn't know that she was Noir was how they always assumed that all information about the fighting part needed to be dumbed down. On the other hand, there was no need for him to tell her what the different types of sensors were for. And if he wanted to think of her as silly, she might as well ask another question. "Why don't you use walls? Wouldn't they help as well?"

Another deep sigh came from the man. "No, I don't need walls. They're worse than useless in this day and age. They might protect the village from some attacks, but if the Terakans or even a modern army would attack there wouldn't be much they could do. What I can do is create a complete network of sensors, automated guns, and mines."

Hold on a minute there, he wanted to lay mines in her village? "Mines?"

"Don't worry," Edward said, barely constraining himself from rolling his eyes. "They'll be dual safety mines, they'll need to be activated before they can even be triggered. No accidents should occur, especially if everyone keeps to the rules I'll set up."

"Somehow I'm not entirely convinced of that."

"Hey, Noir wants this place to be so secure that nothing gets through it," Edward said while raising his hands in the air.

"I know that," Dawn answered a bit peeved.

"Then you should trust me as much as our boss does. The mines aren't there to repel an infantry attack, they'll be the last line of defense against things that can shake off the rest. You know, like tanks, demons, and other things that need a nice big explosion to be taken out?"

Sometimes he went too far with talking down at her like this. Of course, the only reason he figured he'd get away with it was because he hadn't been hired by her, or so he thought, but directly by Noir. Which in his mind put him at the same level in the hierarchy as Dawn. Except… he also knew she was Noir's official spokesperson, and when she used that cover to convey her orders Edward was more than polite.

Well, he was simply a very complicated man, and as he was way better at the whole defense thing than she was she would simply have to learn to live with it. "You do realize that not every demon can be taken out with that, don't you?"

Rolling his eyes at what he probably thought of as another stupid comment, Edward answered that he did and already had other defenses installed for when that was needed.

"Alright. I'm sure you know what you're doing. Is there anything you need that isn't already here?"

"The connection. Other than that, no. Everything I need is already stored in the valley."

"Good, once you get that, how long will it take to finish up completely?"

"I don't know yet, that depends on a number of things. Some people will have to be relocated because their houses are simply too far away to be adequately protected. New housing for them needs to be built, they'll want to take their stuff, all that sort of nonsense."

Well, if that was the thing taking the most time, she suddenly thought of something. "Don't worry about the people, I'm wondering though. Your changes, they will affect the appearance of the village right?"

"Of course it will, I'm rebuilding parts of it remember?" Why did he have to act like she was stupid?

"I know, just remember that it shouldn't stand out."

This time when Edward looked at her it was with obvious scorn in his eyes. "Do I look stupid? Do I look like I don't know my job? Why don't you go play with your money and leave the fighting to the professionals. If your opinion is required, I'm sure Noir will contact you."

Dawn's eyes widened in shock. Wow, she'd been thoroughly snubbed by her own underling. Something like that hadn't happened in… well never actually. It was such a rare occurrence that she wasn't even sure what to do with it. No, she knew what to do, or rather not to do. Punishing someone for speaking up like that was the move of the villain in a bad movie.

"How kind of you to say that," she therefore smiled back at him. "I don't know what I would've done without your good council."

Edward didn't answer, so she continued. "No, I won't apologize for my question. While I'm sure you know what you're doing with these defenses, you're not the only one who's concerned about these people either."

Even Edward had to concede that point. "You are correct. Your question just hit a sore spot, that's all. I did think it over though, and a complete plan has already been send to Noir so that she can take a look as well."

Well, it couldn't have been send long ago, otherwise she'd have known about it already. "Good. While we're being nice to each other again, I'll repeat my earlier question. Is there anything you need that you don't have right now?"

"There is another way for safe communication with the Manor," Edward brought up after considering her words. "And the only thing I'd need for that is your help in getting Noir to approve it."

Dawn wasn't a hundred percent sure what he was talking about, but just in the case those ninety-nine percent were right… "No."

"It works perfectly, when I was with the Watchers Council I had access to mages, witches and everything. Nobody was ever able to-"

"I said no."

Edward shook his head, obviously despairing at such a short-sighted behavior. And intellectually, Dawn knew that it was a weakness. Her constant refusal to use magic had a number of negative side-effects, but she simply couldn't do it. No matter how much harder it made everyone's job.

The disapproving way Edward looked at her, drove this home once more, but this was one subject she wouldn't budge on. "I'm sorry, but this is one thing where Noir and I are in complete agreement."

"But why? Magic is just another tool, a different one than a hammer or even a gun, but a tool nonetheless."

Just another tool. With her mind flashing to that fateful Halloween and the months immediately after it, it was simply impossible for Dawn to see it like that. She didn't like how she thought about magic, it constituted an obvious weakness in her behavior, but she wasn't strong enough to change it either. So, closing her eyes she simply shook her head. "No."

"Think about it at least, will you? If I had access to mages, witches, and the like I would be able to increase the strength of these defenses tenfold."

"Alright," Dawn conceded, granting Edward his wish but already knowing what her decision would be. "There are some things I still need to take care of myself, so I'll say goodbye."

"Right. I'll see you later then," the obviously disappointed man told her.

Spurring on the horse, Dawn was once again on her way to the Manor. This time though, she kept an eye out for the defenses that had already been installed by Edward. She hadn't spent a lot of time here lately, which meant that she'd had only a passing familiarity with the man's original plans. And now it seemed even those had only been provisional. But why did he always come back to the magic thing?

He was good enough to be able to defend everything with mundane tools, just look at what he'd done for the Manor. So why would he keep asking for magic help?

Because the only people who'd attack the Manor were capable of using magic themselves. No, she shook her head in a desperate effort to rid herself of those traitorous thoughts. Even the Terakans could be defeated without magic, she'd done so time after time, and if they'd ever try to attack anyway they'd find out what it meant to face sufficiently advanced technology. After all, that was indistinguishable from magic.

Technology was therefore enough to protect her interests here. And besides, the only thing Edward really needed the magic for was the communication to the Manor. For which there was a better alternative than unreliable magic. Once the whole setup was the way she'd been promised, a far more reliable system would be in place.

Still, despite his constant nagging, Edward was one of the best in his chosen field. In fact, he was so good that Dawn wouldn't want to try to penetrate something that was protected by his designs. Around here she knew where he'd put everything, and even then it was sometimes very hard to spot the defenses he'd put in place.

As she'd finally left the village, and reached the path through the woods that would lead to the valley containing the Manor, she allowed the horse to gallop again. The rolling movement of the horse's muscles was a pleasurable one and reminded her of the first time she'd actually ridden a horse. Well, the first time in this world anyway.

Naturally it had been for a mission, if her memory served it had been the second mission after leaving LA, and back then she'd still taken the occasional risk. Nothing really dangerous, although in hindsight she knew they had been stupid, but risks nonetheless.

That target had been in Arizona, near Phoenix in fact, and, for some ridiculous reason she didn't even want to think about, she had chosen to use a horse to get around. The mission itself hadn't proven very difficult as the target hadn't figured out the importance of his former teammate's death. But she'd come riding up to the target as if she was starring in some kind of failed western, only barely refraining from trying to scalp him.

No, Dawn corrected herself, she had been stupid perhaps but she hadn't been gone that far either. The man might not have died an easy death, but at least she had made him suffer for a purpose and not because she wanted to play a little Indian girl.

Still, it had been foolish, and when the pain in her ass had prevented her from sitting down comfortably for the next couple of days it had shown her exactly how stupid she'd been. Which had been a good thing, because if she'd still taken risks that big when she'd gone after Finn…

Well, suffice it to say it wouldn't have been pretty.

Not that anything about that situation had been pretty. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air she thought about the information she'd gathered since that day. At that time the team hunting her had been under the command of a Jonas Mansfield. As she had already discovered during the mission, he was far from a nice guy and more than willing to sacrifice anyone to achieve his goal.

Exactly how far he'd go had been a surprise though, and probably the reason he'd been removed from command while she'd still been recovering from her wounds. The man had been one sick puppy. Not only had he put spells on his subordinates, or rather had someone else put them there, to protect them from various evils. He'd also put them under his direct control.

Every order he gave them was to be obeyed to the letter, although sufficient free will had been left to allow for personal input. Which was probably what happened with the Bennings woman. Mansfield hadn't ordered her not to do certain things, and as he'd sacrificed her she had taken advantage of those things.

Loosening the wrong arm, so that Dawn would know something was wrong.

Disabling the security cameras, taking off her radio, ensuring the explosives wouldn't be triggered when Dawn entered the room.

Everything could be explained by Mansfield's unclear orders. Of course, during his last weeks there, Mansfield had ensured that nobody else would try something like that.

Being responsible for the death of most of your family wasn't something anyone liked. Especially if it was your friends who'd been ordered to carry out that duty. And they dared call her a monster.

Not that she was a nice person, there was no point in lying to herself about that, but she would never have gone that far. Or at least not if it wasn't necessary. And his superiors had obviously agreed with her, although they'd been far too lenient. Exactly what Mansfield's punishment had been before he'd been reinstated to head the team hunting her was unclear. But it wasn't enough.

The only thing good enough for someone like him was death. Really? She reprimanded herself, if that was the case why hadn't she killed him then? For years Dawn had known where he was, and used that knowledge to make his personal life a tiny bit harder. She should have killed him, but she didn't want to. Not only had she by now figured out most of his reactions, but there was that other thing as well.

How many damned secret organizations did this world have anyway? Dawn mentally cursed. As if the whole supernatural stuff hadn't been enough to mess up her life, someone had actually decided to put that whole genetic mess into the mix as well.

A deep sigh came from her, until she noticed that while thinking about all that she'd actually reached her favorite spot. This was it, the place where all those years ago she'd had her first look at this world's Manor. Where she had debated whether it would be safe to continue or not, where she had made the first move to accept her destiny.

Halting the horse, Dawn took her time to examine the Manor. No longer was it the barely standing ruin from those days. Since then it had been restored to its former glory, and beyond.

At first glance the Manor looked like it probably did when the original inhabitants had still lived there. A solid building that had just the right amount of elegance and class to portray that someone important lived there. Only the white color didn't quite mesh with the original plans, but that didn't matter because most people believed that was the only color the Romans actually used. As if.

Snorting at that thought, Dawn decided against trying to explain that to her people again, and instead looked over the rest of the estate. No longer were there any ruins in sight. Everything, from the pond she'd used to clean her wounds after that fateful confrontation with the Terakan to the arena where a group of men and women was training at this very moment, had been restored.

Despite the fact that an attempt had been made to let everything look as much as it originally did, changes had been made. While someone who was new might not even notice anything, to her and the others who had seen the valley before Edward arrived, the changes were clearly visible.

And the defenses were extensive. Radar stations were dispersed throughout the mountains, but aside from several outposts, the actual defenses were here. Everything Edward had been able to think of, from manually operated and automated turrets, to other obvious deathtraps, and even SAM batteries hidden in their bunkers. There was more of course, so much that nothing short of a ballistic missile should be able to reach the Manor intact. And even that would undoubtedly be solved sooner or later.

The defenses were important as they protected the things that really mattered. The information stored within the Manor was far too important for her to lose. But the problems that could be caused if they fell in the wrong hands were even worse. A backup was available at a location only known to her and two others though, meaning that if anyone would manage to get through she was more than willing to trigger the self-destruct.

But the added defenses weren't the only change here, the entire estate had been brought into the twenty-first century. Technology was rampant, but the lessons from the Pulse had been taken to heart. If the Manor was ever hit by an EMP, there wouldn't be the total loss that had proven so disastrous for the United States.

Yes, in her not so humble opinion this was probably the safest place in the world right now. And it should be, because in more ways than one it was also the most important.

Aside from the prophecies that were kept here, it was also the place from where her Soldats would spread across the world. A number of them had already taken positions of importance all across the world, and more would soon follow.

Every day she gained more followers, people who were fed up with the world as it was now. People who wanted to be able to live in a world free of trouble, and who didn't mind the fact that they had to dirty their hands to create that world. Strength through conflict, wasn't that something Xander once mentioned? Something to do with that Babylon series he liked to watch?

No matter, she shook of the bittersweet memory of the boy she'd loved, it was the truth. Certainly in this case, where conflict was the only way forward.

So far it seemed that the Terakans didn't have any idea of the magnitude of her plans, but no doubt that would one day change. And once that happened she would be ready for them.

Once again the horse was spurred on, and she quickly made her way down the slope until she finally reached the vineyard. Her vineyard. Unlike any of the other yards she owned, this one was important. Not because the wine it produced was any better than that from the others, that wouldn't happen for some years, but because it was this one. Sentimental perhaps, but Dawn figured she was allowed some leeway in that regard.

She slowed the horse down when they reached the vineyard, so that she could enjoy the trip through it. For years she had feared the possibility that this place might exist, a fear that she now found hard to understand. Taking a deep breath she savored the smell of the fresh earth and the plants that took their sustenance from it. The sound of birds above her, and the warmth from the sun's powerful rays, added to the experience, almost making her feel as if she was on vacation.

Vacation, a short laugh escaped her mouth thinking of something as mundane as that. When had her last vacation been? It was probably before Buffy and her mother had died, but she couldn't quite place the timing. Not that it was important in any way, these days she recharged herself by going here.

Of course, the reason for the recharging influenced what she did once she'd arrived. This time she'd come here mostly because she'd gotten fed up with the meetings and other boring things that came with the life of a businesswoman. As a consequence she had spend most of this week training her body, doing some rock climbing, and now even a bit of horse-riding.

Had she come here to recuperate after a mission, a larger portion of her time would have been spend doing non-physical things. Chief among which would always be the prophecies, and other clues that had been left behind.

Every time she looked through them she seemed to gain a new insight on how they could be interpreted. And while those insights might not always be useful, the fact that she still wasn't sure about the meaning of the more obscure references pulled her back to them time after time.

The prophecies of light and darkness. Couldn't they at least have come up with an original name? She realized there was more to the prophecies than their names, and that was what she needed to focus on, but still…

It had been a while since she'd last looked at them though, so it might not be a bad idea to spend the evening doing so. In the library, with a nice glass of wine, sitting not far from the fireplace.

Yes, she felt the smile creep on her face, that was a good idea. Having made up her mind, Dawn started steering the horse towards the stable next to the small pasture that had been set up for the horses. There was a plan for a bigger one, but more immediate concerns had been given priority. Until then there was only a limited number of horses that could be kept in the valley itself, and the rest were spread out over several other locations.

"How did he perform?" Jean-Pierre asked once she arrived, his eyes already scanning the horse for any signs of problems.

Sliding off the horse, she handed the reins to him before answering. "Excellent, better than I'd expected actually. I didn't think the second generation would be able to keep up such a speed this long."

"Well, from what I understand endurance was the main goal for this generation."

"Goals don't mean anything," Dawn said while stretching to loosen her muscles, "endurance was the main goal for the first generation as well, but in the end we had to kill most of them because they could hardly handle walking."

Jean-Pierre flinched at those words, undoubtedly remembering having to help with that duty. The boy loved horses, and being barely out of his teens he had not yet managed to attain the emotional distance that was required for performing duties like that. Still, he rallied magnificently and visibly shut the memory away. He then handed her a bottle of water before turning back to the horse. "The third generation is coming along very well too."

That was nice to know, so far all her information on those had been from reports and those things always lacked a personal touch. "That's good to hear. Have you noticed anything of the enhanced speed they're supposed to be capable of?"

"Some, but not much." That was too bad, but as she'd just told the boy, you can't expect everything to go right the first time.

"Well, I'm sure you'll take good care of them."

"Thank you, milady." Jean-Pierre hesitated for a moment, before he turned sorrowful eyes to her and finally asked the question Dawn had been expecting for the past three years. "Should we really do this?"

"Yes."

"But why? Some of them suffer so much," Jean-Pierre nearly sobbed.

She knew that, there were always a few that suffered, but it was the many that counted. "It's all done to improve the species."

"Why?" he asked again. "Horses are more than capable of doing what needs to be done."

"At the moment perhaps, but as genetic improvements in humans become more common the animals around them need to adjust as well. Especially once the second and third generation of enhanced humans start making their appearance."

From Jean-Pierre's expression it was obvious he didn't understand. But there was no way for her to explain it more clearly. Humanity was changing itself, and why shouldn't they do the same to those animals that were the most useful to them? Livestock was slowly being improved, and so should the animals people worked with.

And it wasn't as if this kind of thing was new anyway, genetic research had always been tested on animals first. Not horses perhaps, but the mice and apes hadn't had a chance to complain either. But then again, like Jean-Pierre was doing now, those laboratory animals had had their defenders.

Saying all this wouldn't be of any help though, so Dawn simply looked at the boy until he lowered his eyes. He would do as she wanted, no question about it, but she suddenly thought of something that might help him live with it. "Have you ever thought of space travel?"

"What?" The question clearly caught him off guard, and Jean-Pierre didn't know what to do.

"Traveling to other worlds. The usual things that gets mentioned in science-fiction."

"I've thought about it, who hasn't?"

Well, she hadn't but then again, she wasn't exactly a normal case anyway. "If humanity goes to colonize other planets, they will want to bring animals with them. Maybe because they want to feel like some kind of pioneer on a horse, or for some other strange reason, but they will take them."

"You mean they'll want to bring along the horses on their ship? That wouldn't work, the ship would have to be huge for something like that to work."

"There are more reasons why it wouldn't work, and it's doubtful the first groups would bring any animals with them anyway. After a while though, fertilized eggs will be taken along. But now imagine, if those animals were the same way they are now, how could they live there? The environment would be difficult, the local plants would probably be inedible, there are a thousand things that would make it difficult for them to survive."

"And doing this research will help in that regard," Jean-Pierre breathed in sudden understanding.

"Exactly." Making a bit of a show of watching the sun that was only barely peeking over the mountains, Dawn made an end to this conversation. "I have to go now. I'll be back tomorrow for another ride though."

"Of course, have a good day," Jean-Pierre greeted.

Walking the remaining distance to the Manor, Dawn thought about the lie she'd just told the boy. Oh, one day humanity might actually make a play for the stars, but the people in charge always kept postponing it. And the last thing she wanted right now was to let them go anyway. It was simply too dangerous if you considered the way demons might spread across the galaxy.

No, until the situation on earth had been contained, something like that simply wasn't possible. Now, back to other business. Was there anything she still needed to do today, or could she spend the rest of the day working on the prophecies? She needed to see if there were any important messages, but if that was the case she'd be told anyway.

Ah yes, she needed to check on the geothermal generator. That was almost finished, and a good thing too as it would make the Manor entirely independent of the outside world. Using the lava pit underneath the Manor as a power source hadn't been her idea, but it was a good one. And with the spring that fed the lake there was enough water to ensure the binary power plant would be able to supply the energy they needed for the foreseeable future.

Not to mention that it was a lot better than her original plan which consisted of a combination of wind and solar power, two energy sources that didn't require some kind of fuel that would need to be brought to the valley. There had also been mention of using some kind of hydro power, but the people who knew more about this than she did had eventually decided on a geothermal plant.

But while checking on the progress made on it was important, there was something else that needed to be done first. There were some reports that she had to look over today, no matter how much she detested that. Why was it that undertaking fewer missions led to an increase in paperwork? Alright, if she hadn't insisted on a small airport being build nearby it wouldn't be necessary, but why did people start complaining once it was almost finished? Didn't they realize that should have been done before the building started?

X.X.X

The hallways of Manticore were silent, just the way Elizabeth Renfro liked them. Looking at her watch she considered how far along 452's mission would have progressed now. Even if the transgenic had walked she should have reached Seattle by now, meaning that it wouldn't be long before Eyes Only was taken care of.

It was a shame, a man with that kind of resources and drive would have been very useful, especially as he seemed to be quite intelligent. Unfortunately he wasn't intelligent enough to stop when he should, ensuring that he was slowly becoming a danger to the project.

To her it was obvious what had happened, somewhere during her time outside 452 must have come into contact with the man. The how and why wasn't important, and she'd thought about them often enough that she simply dismissed those questions from her mind. Once they knew about each other they started working together, an obvious move and one that was backed up by the evidence she'd gathered from Lydecker before he deserted.

Another difficult man, that Lydecker, but with his obvious betrayal only hours ago she should receive permission to take him out any time now. That wasn't what she was supposed to focus on right now though, Renfro admonished herself. The link between Eyes Only and 452 was what mattered right now.

During the time they worked together, human nature had come into play, maybe helped by the periods that 452 went into heat, and the two of them had fallen in love. Bah, if that hadn't happened her life would have been a lot easier than it was right now. Of course, she had her own part in creating this situation, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Taking apart the X-5 who called herself Tinga might not have been the best move she could have made, but she'd been so disappointed when the results had come in that she'd lost some of her perspective. Yes, this job was an interesting one and in the decade she'd worked for the Committee she'd enjoyed life a lot. But during the times she went back to her native Europe she had been shown things that made it clear how far behind the United States had fallen.

Genetic engineering in Europe had been improved so much during these last years that Manticore was actually starting to lose its head start. In fact, the only reason they hadn't was because Summers and her people were loath to mix human and animal DNA. She wasn't entirely sure why, in her opinion the advantages far outweighed the problems it caused, but that's how it was.

Shaking her head in wonder at the strange way some people thought, Renfro turned a corner before focusing her mind back on Eyes Only. He was the problem right now and, until she received confirmation from 494 that 452 had successfully administered the retrovirus, she would consider him her main priority.

At least the Committee had never figured out that Lydecker had turned because she'd killed one of his kids. If that had happened, they might have actually replaced her, or worse. And that wasn't something she would have liked. Not after it had taken all these years to actually get where she needed to go.

The fact that the DNA samples had been lost before she'd had a chance to test all of them was bad enough. But to have actually been removed before she had been able to test the remaining transgenics as well would have been far worse. Not that it was easy to do those tests at the moment. The Committee was paying far too much attention to Manticore right now, ensuring she couldn't do anything without having a good reason.

Having reached the medical facility, she went inside to have a look at the X-7 lying there. The little girl had done a good job, first by ensuring that 452 had been taken when she and her friends had broken into the base, and later by providing the excuse she needed for an extensive test on that same 452. Of course, shooting 452 had also ensured that Eyes Only now believed the X-5 was dead, ensuring his current behavior.

Repressing the urge to wrinkle her nose at the smells coming from the dying child, she leaned closer and stroked the girl's wrinkly face. Yes, she had a feeling that 452 was exactly what she'd been looking for, her personal holy grail. There wasn't a lot that could explain why 452 didn't suffer from progeria, and the thing she was looking for was at the top of her list.

Of course, the lack of progeria didn't necessarily mean anything. There was another copy of 452 running around, X-5 453, but she was currently out on assignment and therefore wouldn't be available for testing anytime soon. Still, there was always the hope that she'd finally found the one.

Something bothered her about the situation though, and had done so ever since she'd been sent here to look for this supposedly perfect being. How could anything like this have happened? Sure, the actual changes in the genetics weren't that hard if you considered that Sandeman would have had unrestricted access. But how come nobody noticed that one of the transgenics walking around was different?

Surely they must have done extensive tests before, or had they actually been stupid enough not to verify their results? Thinking that as they knew exactly what DNA the tiny soldier was created from, and the soldier looked good, they didn't need to verify that the DNA they had on file was actually the one that had gone into the soldier.

They couldn't have been that stupid, could they? On the other hand, if she considered the new ridiculous breeding program that she had been forced to introduce she didn't doubt that there actually were members of the Committee who were that stupid. Once again Renfro shook her head, before turning away from the X-7.

Walking out of the medical facility, she once again tried to contain her anger at that stupid order. She had explained time after time that taking DNA samples from the living transgenics and using that as a base would be far more precise and eventually more cost-effective, but those fools hadn't listened. Well, they would learn once the first of those children was born, nine months from now.

Not that it mattered to her, Renfro thought as she continued the walk to her office. If everything went the way she wanted it to, she would be long gone by then. Far out of the reach of the Committee and back among the people she belonged with. No longer would she be serving two masters.

Back under the direct guidance of the most important person in the world. Once again protecting the world from those filthy Terakans.

By now she'd reached her office and she stepped inside. There were things she still needed to take care of, things important to the Committee. And while doing so she couldn't afford any distractions like thoughts of annoying reporters and genetic wonders.

Only barely had she started to do so however, when a knock on her door tore her attention away from her work. "Come in."

And in stepped the man she wanted to see most. The one she'd ordered to test 452's DNA, and judging by the folder he was carrying that's what he was here about. "Results on the DNA workup you ordered on 452."

Her heart was in her throat, but Renfro knew she couldn't show any of it. The man's report would go to the Committee, and it wouldn't do if that report showed a reaction that was far out of proportion to the simple question it was supposed to answer. "Did you find anything to explain why there's no progeria?"

"Maybe you better take a look," he answered while handing her the file.

Opening it up she immediately recognized what it meant. Her quest was complete, she had found the one she'd been looking for. The doctor said something about not having seen anything like it before, but she had. Well, not the technical terms and the DNA profile itself, but she'd read about it. Once, in what was then still technically a ruin but had later turned into one of the most impressive buildings she'd ever visited.

Renfro was certain, 452 was the woman she was looking for. And her ticket out of here. With difficulty she raised her eyes from the riveting sight of the file that detailed some of the changes Sandeman had made. "Does anyone else know about this?"

"No, ma'am."

Excellent. "Let's keep it that way," Renfro told the man and grabbing her gun she shot him. The fate of this entire facility had just become meaningless to her. Once 452 had been brought back she'd leave this country and never look back. But first it was time to report her success.

Taking her cellphone she dialed a number from memory. That number would connect her to someone who'd pass the message on to someone who'd do the same until it finally reached the person it was intended for.

Moments after she dialing the number, the call was answered and she could report. "C'est Renfro."

X.X.X

As always when she was going through the prophecies, time went a lot faster than Dawn thought it did and so it was that while outside the sun was already starting to rise, she was still working on them. Theories entered her mind and were quickly dismissed, possible solutions for problems were considered, most of which would be dismissed in a later evaluation, and as always she tried to make sense of it all. Looking at the various screens lining the information center she tried to bring this part of the prophecy into order.

Going by date was useless, not only because several of the shorter premonitions lacked a date, but also because they hadn't been predicted in order. In some cases, Dawn thought sulkily, not even within the same prophecy. Of course, just because she understood some of the events that were predicted didn't mean that she was suddenly able to understand them all.

One of the things she really couldn't stand was how there seemed to be several time lines. If she understood the prophecies correctly, they implied that there had been a possibility that Buffy and her mother hadn't died. Or, she corrected herself after looking at the relevant text, at least not at that time. All in all, these different time lines didn't make her job any easier, especially when you considered that some of those forks had happened centuries ago.

Over the centuries the villagers had done their best to collect all the information they could, but it had been nearly impossible for them to actually check the prophecies for relevance. Which meant that she had several hundred pages of text, only some of which were in the least bit relevant to her current situation.

So, one of the few ways in which she'd ordered the prophecies, or rather had several other people order them, was through their connections to each other. Some were easy, like the prophecies of light and darkness, but others were harder to identify that way.

A very annoying example of that was the story of the world-traveler. While there had been a number of references to this person, she couldn't place them in a larger context. Did the world-traveler exist in this time line? Or in one of the others? The text described this traveler as someone who dreamed about different worlds and actually went there. But how, why, and who weren't exactly stated.

A deep sigh emanated from her mouth. Here she was, one of the most influential people on the Earth, having set up her own personal kingdom and planning on extending it in every possible direction, and using technology that was beyond the dreams of people not even twenty years ago. But also trying to figure out the ramblings of a bunch of crazy people who'd written some ridiculous words nine centuries ago.

And none of that technology was of any use in that regard. Nothing the IT people had come up with would actually help her in understanding these texts. There were other nice things they'd come up with, like the way they had redesigned their equipment so that it would be hardened against another EMP or that Internet3 thing that the geeks were raving about.

Why did they need a data-rate like that anyway? Wouldn't the Internet2 everyone else was using be sufficient? All it needed to do was transmit data, and there wasn't that much of it. Of course, that was only looking at the short-term applications of this technology while its actual purpose was long-term. Not that she believed her offices needed something more than the current standard which already measured its speed in terms of the number of times the pre-Pulse Library of Congress could be transmitted in a single minute.

However, her people wanted to play with it and she had no doubt that her marketing people would be able to sell it. Especially if the IT people could make true on their promises that it would be protected from suffering the same fate as the Internet had in 2009.

The disruption of the Internet caused by the sudden breakdown of so many routers, servers, and whatnot had brought a large portion of the worldwide infrastructure to a halt. It wasn't long before the unaffected parts had once again been able to operate relatively smoothly, but the data loss it had caused was enormous.

Or at least that's what she gathered from her IT people. She wasn't too bad where it came to computers, but most of what she knew was about using them, and not the underlying infrastructure which she had never really needed to know about.

It didn't really matter anyway, this whole infrastructure that she was setting up now would have to last for centuries and not only for the current time. While Dawn had no doubt that even the technology her people only dreamed about now would some day become outdated, she also realized that all the steps in between would have to be carried out as well.

Turning her mind back to the prophecies she wondered what people would think of them. How would it be if she allowed any of the information in this center to get outside of the valley? At the moment there was no danger of that happening, there was a complete ban of taking any information out of the valley, either in tangible or electronic form. She even went so far as to ensure that none of the computers any of this information was stored on could be reached from another.

And she hadn't taken any halfway measures by using virtual private networks either. No, these computers were completely separated from the outside world and the defenses around them were better than anywhere else on the world. Only a bare handful of people had actual access to them, and they were all people she trusted with her life. Nobody else even knew where the prophecies were stored.

The sudden sound of her phone startled Dawn out of her thoughts, and she quickly grabbed the headset and enabled the virtual interface. Now this was a nice technology, too bad it only worked on such a short distance or she could use it during her missions. "Yes?"

"We've just received a communique," the avatar of her personal attendant said.

Jacques interrupting her because of a message? There were only three messages for which she allowed him to disturb her while she was down here. "From who?"

"Elizabeth." Elizabeth? Renfro, her mind immediately supplied, a quick command displayed the relevant data next to Jacques. The woman had been send to infiltrate Manticore years ago, but quickly scanning the file showed Dawn that Elizabeth had indeed been been getting closer to her goal.

"What did she have to say?"

A smile broke out on Jacques' face, telling her that it was indeed good news. "Elizabeth has found her."

"Her? It was a woman then? Which one?"

"The conversation was short, and she never mentioned it. She will come here soon with the transgenic."

"Excellent, prepare for her arrival." Increasing the transparency of the interface Dawn looked at one of the monitors, briefly skimming the prophecy that had given her the idea for the name of the project she was about to initiate. "Start with the preparations for operation Phoenix."

A flash of pain seemed to show in Jacques' eyes, but she'd probably imagined it as the virtual reality software wasn't capable of showing that yet. The pain was audible in his voice though. "As you wish."

"Thank you."

Disconnecting the call, Dawn once again read the part of the prophecy that she had a good idea about what it meant. "Through fire, freedom will be gained," she quoted into the silence of the room. Yes, the meaning of that seemed to be so clear. And that's how it remained until hours later when she was informed that doctor Elizabeth Renfro had been killed, and a raging fire in the Manticore facility had freed the transgenics there.

Leaving her once again without any more information about the transgenic she'd been looking for.

* * *

Post-fic comments: Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget about the feedback. 

Vega12, Bob-from-Accounting, MaxS452, thanks for your feedback. I hope this chapter cleared at least some of your questions up. I really appreciate your comments. Of course, you only had hints here about the prophecies, but it won't be long before you actually get to read one. And MaxS452, you're right. Backstory is probably a better name than flashback.

On another note, I've uploaded new versions of the first 8 chapters. The story they tell is still the same, but some of the details have changed a little. It's therefore not necessary to read it again (unless you want to of course).


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_June 14, 2021_

Samantha could hear voices, but wasn't able to make out what was being said. Or by who for that matter. The incredible headache was starting to clear though, and slowly but surely she was in the process of opening her eyes.

The moment she opened them however, the harsh daylight seemed to lance straight into her brain and she winced from the experience while quickly closing them again. A comforting hand, one that she would recognize anywhere, caressed her face then, and once again she heard a murmuring voice. Jacob, she lifted the corners of her mouth in what she hoped would show as a smile.

Dear sweet Jacob was helping her, had stood by her as she was suffering. Opening her mouth to thank him, Samantha was surprised at the rasping sound that emanated from it. It hadn't been that long, had it? No, it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes.

But even as she thought that she noticed for the first time how sticky her clothes felt. And how had she ended up on the couch? Once again she tried to open her eyes in an effort to make sense of the situation, but once again the light hurt too much.

"-tha, …ove …it." While the words in themselves were still indecipherable, her hearing was obviously improving and she tried to find out who was talking.

Logically she assumed it had to be Jacob, but until she could recognize his voice, she couldn't be certain. And she needed him! He was the only person left who she could count on, now that Dawn…

Now that Dawn, what? Giving up any thoughts of focusing on her environment, Samantha focused on the inside of her mind. There was something there, something that was no longer being blocked. But what was it?

Digging deeper and deeper into her mind, she came upon memories she'd forgotten, but nothing yet that could explain what had caused her current situation. Her childhood passed in front of her mind's eye, including that terrible moment where her sister died, but it was quickly replaced by more recent memories.

The first time she'd encountered Jacob, once again while she was at a party, was a memory that lingered for a while. Strange how the most important meetings of her life seemed to take place during parties. Oh, Jacob had looked so cute that day, and on her side at least it had probably come as close to love at first sight as was possible.

By trying to make himself scarce, already hating the parties she so enjoyed, he had drawn her attention. Even though she was only fourteen years old at the time, she'd immediately homed in on him, and for the rest of the night she'd pursued him with a vigor that was unlike any she'd ever known. Samantha still wasn't entirely sure what it was that had drawn her to him, but now all these years later she was still glad it had happened.

That happy memory was soon replaced though with the horrible recollection of her father's death and the dark time that followed it. The denial from both her and her little brother that anything like that could have possibly happened to her father, while her mother was barely able to function. No, she didn't want to think about that, and it wasn't the memory she was looking for anyway.

Samantha focused her mind on the times that came after, happy memories in between the darkness. Birthdays, Jacob's proposal, the beautiful spring wedding. It was such a shame that Dawn hadn't been able to make it. But at least she'd spoken her friend after the honeymoon they'd spent in southern France. Now, that honeymoon was a memory she really enjoyed.

After she'd lingered there for a while however, Samantha understood that it was only a stalling tactic. A way to postpone the inevitable. Something she could do without having to face the realities of what it was that she'd remembered. A deep mental sigh followed, but before she was able to gather the courage to look for those recovered memories, she tried once again to open her eyes.

No luck though, and while she was able to make out more sounds as well, it wasn't enough to help her identify the speakers. She did recognize that Jacob couldn't be alone though, someone or perhaps several someones were with him. The cold feeling of chipped ice against her lips, drew her attention then and she immediately opened her mouth so that they could place it in there.

Water, as the chips melted in her mouth it started to feel less like a desert and more like something that she would actually be able to use. Not that she wanted to take the risk of trying to talk yet, her earlier attempt had shown that wasn't a good idea, but while her mouth still felt far drier than was probably healthy it was an obvious improvement. It was amazing that Jacob had thought of it though, using chipped ice would never in a million years have occurred to her. And it was far better than having to suck through a straw like she'd done earlier.

Opening her mouth in a silent plea, she waited until she received a new portion. When it finally arrived, she couldn't prevent the moan that showed her approval of the ice while it slowly melted in her mouth. A weight was then removed from her forehead, drawing her attention to the fact that something had been lying on it.

What? But it wasn't long before it was replaced, and Samantha realized what it had to be. A wet towel, at least it was wet now. Had she been so hot that she required a towel like that? No that was the wrong question. What she really wanted to know was if she'd been so hot that the towel had already dried up.

Should she try to open her eyes again? Raising her eyelids only the tiniest margin already told her that wasn't the right thing to do. The light still hurt her, and as it seemed that she wasn't able to talk right yet either, that didn't leave her much choice. At least she was refreshed enough now that she had regained enough courage to once again try to hunt for the recovered memory. If that was what it was.

Strange, how her mind seemed more capable than ever before. It wasn't like she could usually zap through her memories as if they were movies on television, but with her life flashing before her eyes, she didn't really care how this could have happened. She wanted that memory.

But unless she'd missed it, that memory must have been fairly recent. The memory she was watching now was one about the Christmas she and Jacob had spent with her family, about three-and-a-half years ago. Dismissing this memory, as it obviously wasn't the one she was looking for, she continued until she finally found it.

'What have I done?'

X.X.X

"Are you gonna kill me now?" Max asked, trying to remain as calm as she could.

Noir didn't seem to hear her question though, or she simply ignored it. "Answer the question."

"If you pull that trigger, you'll be dead as well," Mole warned the assassin as he went to stand next to her and allowed his own gun to join all others pointed at Noir's head.

This did actually cause a reaction on the assassin's face. A tiny twitch as if she was laughing about something, but didn't want to show it. "I don't doubt it, won't help her though. Answer the question, please."

Well, at least she was more polite now. But what would someone like Noir care about Renfro? "No, she was shot by one of her soldiers when she jumped in front of me."

"Damned self-sacrificing woman. She could at least have told me your name," Noir sighed, before in a move that was just a bit too fast for a normal human she turned around the weapon and holding the barrel handed it to Mole. "Here, that was the only question I needed to have an answer to. I do apologize for betraying your trust though."

Like her, Mole was stunned as he accepted the weapon, but he didn't remain so for long. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Hell is right," Noir answered with a short laugh. "I told you that I'd be the only one capable of dealing with these two."

"You did, but that doesn't tell me anything about how you even knew they were here. What tells me you didn't send them?"

"Had I come to Seattle to kill miss Guevera here, she would no longer be breathing. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't compare me to these amateurs."

Max wanted to ask her own questions, but Mole was on a roll and continued his interrogation. "What do ya mean, amateurs? You said they were from the Order of Teraka."

Order of Teraka? What were they, besides ugly, and smelly she added while wrinkling her nose. She was too late again to ask her own question though, but while listening Noir answer the this question, she swore she'd ask it soon.

"The entire Order consists of amateurs. Maybe not compared to most people, but compared to me, they are."

"That still does-"

"Why did you ask about Renfro?" Max demanded, interrupting Mole.

Noir looked at her for a moment, still only showing those dead eyes. "She worked for me."

This time Max couldn't control herself, nor did she have even the slightest intention of doing so. One move that Noir probably hadn't even seen later, and the assassin was flying through the air. "You bitch!"

While impressive, Max didn't even think about the way Noir had managed to twist so that she landed on her feet. She was far too angry to think about anything but pummeling this woman until she looked just like the other assassins. Except of course, that she'd be a red puddle of blood.

Running full speed for the assassin, she let fly with a straight kick at the woman's stomach. But it didn't connect. "That first one I was willing to grant you, I don't know why, but I'm sure I've done something in my life that deserved it," Noir answered while holding onto Max' leg.

How could the woman remain this calm? Not that she really cared, Max thought shortly before yanking her leg loose and once again focusing fully on the woman who'd taken Logan from her. It had been Renfro who had her injected with the retrovirus targeted at Logan's DNA, a virus that tried to kill him every time she touched him. And if Renfro worked for Noir, then it was Noir who was at fault and had to be punished.

Kick, punch, punch, kick, and repeat. She kept attacking the woman who, while blocking and dodging a fair number of her moves, didn't try a counter-attack. Not that it mattered to her, as far as Max was concerned the woman was a danger to her friends. Friends. Quickly she sneaked a peek behind her, yes there was Original Cindy.

Which meant that Noir had forced her friend to take her here. Another thing that couldn't possibly be forgiven. Using a combo that she had always been rather fond of, Max once again managed to get the assassin airborne, this time with a move hard enough that it caused her to crash into the wall.

Slowly, she then approached the bleeding woman, who despite her wounds didn't seem inclined to give up. "Would you mind telling me exactly what it is that I did?"

"As if you don't know," Max hissed in return.

"Actually, I don't. Why don't you enlighten me?"

Whatever else the woman was, she definitely wasn't a coward to taunt her like this. "You damned well know that I'm talking about the virus."

In what seemed like only the second time the woman showed any emotion, Noir wrinkled her forehead while adopting a thoughtful expression. "Virus? Did she inject your friends with something?"

Max froze in mid-step. Was the woman serious? Could it be that she really didn't know? "I'm talking about the DNA targeted retrovirus."

"Sounds harsh, I can understand why you wouldn't like it. Did someone you care about die?"

"No! But he came close a couple of times," Max wearily answered. It looked like the woman really didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"Sorry to hear that. Who was injected? You?"

While she was willing to grant the assassin a reprieve for now, Max couldn't and wouldn't forget exactly who and what she was talking to. "Why do you care?"

"Just trying to figure it out," Noir answered while getting to her feet. She was hurt, Max could see that, but she rose without wincing. The woman obviously had a lot of control over her own body. "So, why would Elizabeth use something on you? Why-"

"Why don't we go back to us asking questions, and you answering them?" Mole interjected.

An excellent idea, Max thought, and she wished she'd thought of it herself. "Right, let's do that. Now that we know the woman who tried to burn most of us to death worked for you, why don't you start by telling us who your friends here were?"

"She didn't try to burn all of you. You would have survived," Noir told Max in a completely neutral tone, causing shivers to run down her back. That was just wrong, you didn't talk about burning people like that. "But to answer your question, they were members of the Order of Teraka. A guild of assassins who don't mind hiring demons."

"Demons," Max scoffed. "Are you going to tell us about pixies next?"

Noir wasn't put of by her tone though. "If you wish, although I've never seen one so I can't tell you much."

"Right, you want to tell us things like that really exist? Demons, vampires, werewolves, pixies, dragons, smurfs, they're all real?" What was the woman thinking?

"No need to act like that. I can't vouch for the smurfs, and I already told you I've never seen any pixies, but you're welcome to come up with a better explanation of the nice puddles of slime lying there." The last part of her sentence was accompanied by a nod in the direction of the two traitors, or rather what remained of them. But Max wasn't stupid enough to look behind her, who knew what the woman would do then?

"Okay, I'll grant you that. It's a bit unusual for people to melt, but that doesn't mean anything."

"Of course not. Oh by the way, would you mind if I took their rings? I've got quite a collection already, and would like to add them."

A professional assassin who took souvenirs? That was just sick. "Why do you want them, and why did you kill them anyway. Not," she hastened to add, "that I'm ungrateful. But if it was just so that you could try to kill me I don't think I'd like your reasons."

"Kill you? And why would I do that?" the woman asked while raising an eyebrow.

What? "'cause you were hired to do that of course."

"You mean the mission from White?" See? Max felt vindicated now that the woman finally admitted it. Unfortunately that only lasted mere moments as the woman's next words turned the whole situation on its head. "Who ever said I accepted that mission?"

X.X.X

Walking through his luxurious house, Victor couldn't stop thinking about that woman who'd made a fool out of him. How dare she do something like that to him in public! He'd seen the way Jacob looked at him during the meeting this afternoon, and he just couldn't stand it.

Although nobody yet actually had the courage to laugh in his face, he just knew people were starting to laugh behind his back. He the great Victor Jackson, snubbed by a mere woman. Oh no, he wouldn't stand for it. Nobody did that to him and survived. Jacob could talk about holy days whatever he wanted, but if that had been the case she shouldn't have started seducing him in the first place.

Even now, just thinking about it, he got warm again. The heat of her breath as she whispered in his ears, the silky feel of her legs and arms as she slithered over him. Even the wonderful feeling of her breasts pushing into his chest, and the slightly uncomfortable feeling as she was sitting on his lap.

God, wouldn't he have loved to have taken that further. Victor could hardly imagine how it would have been to carry the woman in his arms to the bedroom that Jacob and Samantha had prepared for Summers. And then, when they had arrived, spent the night exploring their bodies until in the end she'd cry out from release amid the satin sheets.

She had looked so good during that party as well. The woman confused him, one moment he wanted to kill her and the next he wanted to be back at that party. To where she was wearing that hot little number. Too bad he hadn't had a chance to get her alone, if that had been possible he would've ripped that dress from her body and taken her there.

Victor shook his head in despair, this was bad. Had he been that far gone that he'd have sacrificed everything just so he could have a taste of Summers' body? A lecherous smile appeared on his face as he remembered how she looked while fencing, dancing, and crawling all over him. Oh yeah, he definitely would have. Not that it was the smart thing to do but you couldn't have everything.

But none of that mattered now. Summers had chosen her path, and she would learn why that had been the wrong thing to do. The lesson would come a bit too late though, as she'd die learning it.

Having reached the glass sliding doors that led to his garden, Victor opened them and stepped outside. The rich were such easy targets that he sometimes wondered how they could stay rich. For the past fifteen years he'd been leaching from them, using the money he got from his less than legal dealings to make them believe he was one of them.

As if he could be like that. Hah! The only reason he spent time with all those pretty boys and girls was so that he could find out about profitable ventures. Those people always liked to brag, telling everybody just how much they'd made using what ingenious method.

Once again a slow smile spread over Victor's face as he considered the follow-up conversations he sometimes had with those braggarts. For some reason they lost their high and mighty attitude once they'd been the victim of one of his methods. Too bad he could never let those fools know he'd been the one to steal that money from them.

To maintain his cover, he too owned several legitimate businesses, although his main income was still from criminal activities. A double-life like his was a bit more dangerous in these days when any fool could hijack a television and send his anonymous messages though. Not that Eyes Only had ever been able to connect anything to him, he'd made sure of that, but the man had cost him some money.

Now that he thought about it, maybe he should see to having Eyes Only taken care of as well, and not just Summers. Well, of course he should. But that was mixing business with pleasure and he had no intention of doing that. Unless it was with a beautiful woman like Summers of course, in that case anyone could be forgiven for that.

How should he get rid of her though? What kind of death would be fitting for the crime of leading him on? A gang-rape? It would teach her about the mistake of leading anyone on, but he decided against it. While the moral aspects to it didn't really bother him, he'd seen enough of Summers to know that she might have a chance of getting away.

Unless he used a lot of chains to bind her naked body spread-eagled to a bed. Hmm… that did sound interesting, and if he went first…

No. No matter how much he would enjoy doing something like that, it would lead to his downfall. Torture had its place, but it was for gaining information, not for killing someone.

With a sigh he turned away from the flowers he'd been staring at and walked further into the garden. Yes, there was only one kind of death that would be suitable for Summers, and that was the classic bullet though the brain. No fuss, no danger. All he needed to do was to actually have someone put the bullet there. Preferably at a time he was near so that he could both enjoy watching it happen and have a solid alibi.

Samantha's party would have been a good opportunity, but before that started he'd still had some hope that she'd come to apologize. Not that it would have mattered where it concerned her eventual fate, but he would have enjoyed ordering her around as she tried to appease him.

He should have known better than that though. Summers was a classy lady, and there was a snowball's chance in hell of her ever apologizing. Not when she was right and, as in this case, not when she was wrong. No, he snorted, someone like her apologizing for her behavior, no matter how despicable, was nothing but a fantasy.

People apologized to her. In fact, wasn't there something a couple of years back that involved a lot of groveling from a number of people? What was it again? Oh yes, now he remembered.

That Blanc fellow. Victor still wasn't entirely sure what he should make of that situation. Something about it seemed a bit off to him. Maybe the fact that while Summers had been one of the man's potential targets, she was also the one who profited from it the most? It hadn't been long before she'd started taking everything the man owned, and nobody even dared to tell her she wasn't allowed to do so.

After all, not only had the man falsely accused her, he had also hired someone to kill her. He'd been stupid though, and made mistakes Victor would never allow himself to make. No, when he carried out his plan, nobody would see the death of Dawn Summers coming. And he wouldn't make the mistake of trying to take out anyone else at the same time either. If Blanc had kept to Summers, he probably would never have been assassinated while in jail.

The ringing of his cellphone turned Victor away from his thoughts of revenge, and looking at the display he wondered why Cedric would be calling him. "What?"

"Boss, we've got a problem."

A problem? Why did everybody always say that when they encountered even the smallest hiccup? "What sort of problem could you have? All you're doing is waiting for Noir to show up."

"Ah, well that's the problem sir."

"Oh?" Victor said, knowing the tone of his voice would inform the other that he was starting to get angry.

The swallowing he could hear on the other side of the line informed him immediately that it had worked. "We're no longer there."

"Really?" he started calmly, before suddenly changing gears. "And why the hell not?"

"This woman came-"

"Noir?"

"Unlikely sir, she acted like one of those rich bitches although I didn't recognize her."

Cedric knew all of the locals, so this was an outsider. And he knew of only one outsider in the city who enjoyed messing with his plans. Consciously or not. "Carry on."

"She came, and after talking to the police they started cleaning the streets. Arresting everybody in sight. They got several of my team."

Damn. He'd wanted that bounty on Noir's head. Something like that would have earned him the reputation needed to strike alliances with some of the bigger organizations in other cities. "You said you didn't know who the woman was, could you describe her?"

"Sure. Brunette hair, athletic figure, she appeared to be somewhere in her late twenties, although that might be due to surgery. I'd guess she's about five foot eight, maybe nine. Oh, and Dave called her Dawn."

Summers. Wait a minute. "Dave?"

"A smalltimer that appeared in town a couple of months ago. He and some other chick were with the woman."

"Any ideas on his relationship to her?"

"Not sure. They seemed to dance around each other a little. Could be fear, could be love, could be lust. I for one wouldn't blame him for that last one, she was hot."

Irrational anger rose in Victor, and he tried to extinguish it before it could influence his decisions. Summers was his, and if he couldn't have her. Nobody could. Taking a couple of deep breaths he calmed himself down enough that he'd be able to conduct this simple phone call. "Alright. Noir is out of reach for now, we'll get back to her later. You get back here, there's something I need you to do."

"Yes sir, On my way."

Disconnecting the call, Victor kept the tight grip on his emotions while staring into the garden. Well, well. Wasn't this cute? Summers was slumming, and now it meant she wouldn't have to die all alone. Her little boyfriend could come too.

X.X.X

He had driven through the streets of Seattle as fast as he dared, but Logan still feared that he was too late. Bernie had kept him so long, and for what? The man had told him everything he needed to confirm his suspicions, but why would he do that if he worked for Summers?

And what was with the whole think before you act? Why should he think about the reasons anyone had for killing the woman he loved? He was there. Quickly getting out of the car, Logan sprinted to the building that would lead him into Terminal City.

Slightly out of breath he arrived at the entrance, where he slowed to a halt. The guards were on this side of the door, and they didn't look happy. What had happened? Logan went to ask, but he stopped his mouth when he noticed a covered body on the ground, and another that was uncovered. "No." The despairing sound escaped his mouth.

One of the guards approached him, Teddy he remembered this one had called himself. "Logan."

"Teddy, what happened here? No, never mind. I know Noir's real name."

"So do we."

The curt words stopped him dead in his tracks. He'd hoped that the dead bodies didn't mean what he feared they did, but obviously he'd been out of luck. "She did this?"

"Yes, somehow she'd forced Original Cindy here. Her and another guy, but he's lying there," Teddy answered while nodding at the body lying on the ground. And now that Logan paid more attention he could see that the man was still alive. He raised an eyebrow to show his surprise at Teddy's restraint.

"You didn't kill him?"

"Nah, she did that to him. According to Original Cindy he'd told her who the woman really was. Until then she still thought the whole story of businesswoman was real."

"So it is Summers?"

"Yes, it's that bitch. And we were forced to let her come through even after she'd killed Bridget."

What? That made even less sense than Bernie. "Why did you let her go? And when did that happen? Wait, does that mean she's going to kill Max?"

"Nah, she gave up her guns and everything. And while she's had some genetic enhancements, they probably aren't anywhere near ours."

"Genetic enhancements? Summers is a transgenic?"

Teddy shook his head in denial at that. "I don't think so. She seemed more like one of those Euro athlete types, you know."

Ah, now he understood, and the need for haste left him somewhat. "So if she tries anything, she can be stopped?"

"Yeah, I don't think she'll be any real danger now."

A short barking laugh came from the downed man, and they both turned to him. "What?"

"Trust me, she'll be able to kill your friend without any trouble."

"Max is an X-5, she won't be so easily killed by anyone. If she'd been hurt, we would've heard about it by now."

Hold on. "What do you mean, if she's hurt? Didn't you just tell me there wasn't any danger."

Teddy hesitated a moment, something Logan wasn't too happy about. "Well, not from Noir no."

"What do you mean, not from Noir?" Logan demanded to know while trying to walk past Teddy who held an arm out to prevent him from entering.

"Sorry, you're not allowed in right now. Anyway, while Noir was here, there was mention of shots being fired, but that situation has apparently been handled several minutes ago."

"You mean she had someone inside?" He might not like the fact that he wasn't allowed in, but Logan wasn't stupid enough to try to get past the bulky transgenic either. Which meant he couldn't do anything but try to gather more information.

"No, they were two filthy traitors. Should've known something was wrong with how much they smelled but still wore those golden rings."

"Golden rings?" the man asked while moving to sit up again.

"Yeah, golden rings."

The man sank back to the floor with a look of pain on his face. "Oh great, them. But fuck, this hurts, couldn't she have just shot me or something?"

"If you would like that, I can do that for you," Teddy told the man while waiving his gun in his general direction, obviously still not happy with the man's part in the death of Bridget.

"Ah, thanks, but no thanks. I'll just lay down here."

"What's your name?" Logan demanded, wondering what this man actually knew.

"Dave, and you?"

"You mean you don't know? Didn't your boss tell you?" Teddy answered before Logan could do so himself.

"She's not my boss. I came here to stop her. Not that I succeeded, but I hadn't counted on your stupidity."

"Watch who you call stupid," Teddy bristled while taking a first threatening step in Dave's direction. Logan stopped him however.

"Never mind, back to the traitors, you said you know who they are?"

"Not their names, but I know they're Terakans."

Terakans? What was it that Bernie had told him again? Noir has only two goals, one of which was the destruction of the Order of Teraka. But once again it was Teddy who spoke first. "That's what she said, how did you know?"

"The rings. Oh well, it means your boss won't die alone. Is that how she convinced you to let her through? By promising she'd kill the Terakans something nobody else would be able to do?"

"Actually yeah, but how-"

"She fooled you," Dave coughed before once again trying to sit up, and being more successful this time around.

"They do work for her?"

The laughter that statement engendered almost made Logan feel like a fool, but it wasn't long before Dave calmed himself. "Sorry 'bout that. But I'd have to say no to that. If there's one thing that Dawn hates more than the army that killed her precious Xander, it's the people who killed her mother and sister."

"So that's why she hates them," Logan murmured.

"You knew she hates them?" Dave asked as he turned his full attention on Logan.

He didn't think it would do any harm now, so Logan simply explained. "A former informant of Eyes Only contacted me. He said that Noir only lived for two things, destroying the Order of Teraka and fulfilling the prophecies."

"Prophecies? There are prophecies about Dawnie? Man, she must hate that. Wait a minute, you know Eyes Only? That's cool man, I really dig his show."

Okay, being complimented by someone whose friend was trying to kill Max was a bit freaky. Especially if that friend was Noir. "Ah, thanks. Teddy," Logan once again turned to the transgenic. "I really need to get to Max."

"Logan, you know I'd do whatever I can to help you. But in this case Mole's orders were clear."

"Max is in danger, Teddy," Logan tried again. "You heard what he said, now that the Terakans are dead she'll finish what she came here to do. We need to warn her."

"She isn't in any danger from that woman. She's unarmed and nowhere near as strong as Max."

"Right," Dave said as he had finally managed to get to his feet. "And of course she was never able to take out a vampire or demon four maybe five times as strong and fast as her. Who are you kidding?"

Teddy looked at the man as if saw water burning. "Vampires, demons? What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Hold on, Bernie mentioned those as well. Why are people suddenly starting to believe in things like that?"

"Suddenly? I've believed since Dawn shot a crossbow bolt through what I'd thought of as a particular stupid informant. Trust me, when you see someone turn into dust right in front of your face, you'll believe."

"And these Terakans? You think they were demons?"

"What kind of stupid question is that? Of course they are, what else is a wrong color and stinks like that?"

"Mole and his damned cigars," Teddy whispered so quietly that Logan had trouble hearing it, and Dave surely missed it, although one of the transgenics standing on guard had to quickly suppress a burst of laughter.

"Teddy, I'm not sure if the man's telling the truth. But can we take the chance? You know you can trust me."

Reluctantly the transgenic nodded his head. "Alright, you can go in. But only you, the other guy stays here."

As if he'd planned on taking Dave anyway. "Thank you." Using the exoskeleton to its fullest, Logan ran through Terminal City to where he knew Max would be. Max, and the woman who wanted to kill her.

When he finally reached the command center, Logan burst through the door only to stop in confusion. The first thing he saw was the half-circle of transgenics, although he quickly spotted the three people inside as well. Max looked pretty bad, covered in dry blood and some kind of green muck, while Mole looked as clean as he possibly could. It was the other woman however who looked the worst.

Dawn Summers looked like she'd just gone several rounds with someone who was far better and stronger than her. Logan couldn't resist the pride swelling in his chest as he considered that it must have been Max who'd done so. The three hadn't noticed him though, and it was Max from who he heard the first snippet of this conversation. "Whadda ya mean, who says you accepted the job?"

X.X.X

When a strangled cry left Samantha's throat, Jacob was next to her in a flash. For the past couple of minutes after they'd fed her the ice, she'd gone into that strange sleeping phase again. As that had already happened several times, and doctor Manninx told him she was improving, he hadn't been too worried.

Until now that is. The cry was one that to his ears sounded like it was full of anguish, pain, and most of all betrayal. It sounded as if someone she cared about had shoved a knife in her stomach, twisted it around a couple of times, and finally left her to slowly bleed to death.

Suddenly the cry was broken off, and Samantha arched her back in a move that to his eyes looked far from healthy. Putting his hands on her arms he pushed, in a desperate effort to get her back on the couch, but it was useless. She started trashing wildly, and not even with the help of both the doctor and Walter did he manage to calm her down.

With tears blocking his vision, and a lump in his throat, Jacob tried desperately to do whatever he could for the most important woman in his life. He would do anything for her, there was nothing that would be too much. And that made this situation even worse, because there was nothing he could do.

Samantha opened her eyes.

The move was so unexpected that Jacob didn't immediately notice, and even when he did he was too shocked to let go of her now unmoving body. There was a pressure on his arms though, and slowly he began to realize that she wanted to sit up, but couldn't do so while he was stopping her. That was something he was more than happy to allow anyway, he wanted to hug her, a move that would bring comfort to both her and himself.

"Samantha," he breathed in relief.

Samantha sat up, and as the towel dropped to the floor, he couldn't do anything but look at her relieved face. Except… she wasn't relieved, in fact she looked more sick than anything else. A fact that was underscored by the wild look in her eyes, something that didn't go away until she noticed the bucket that had been placed next to the couch for this very purpose. Not waiting even a second, she grabbed it, held it below her mouth, and threw up.

Seeing that, Jacob didn't hesitate for a single moment either. Taking hold of her damp hair, he kept it out of her face, while soothingly stroking her back. "Easy, my dear. Easy."

It wasn't long before Samantha had emptied her stomach, but that didn't stop her from throwing up. The only difference was that this time only bile and stomach acids came up. Finally, after several long minutes, she was finished and looked up at him with pained eyes.

Gently Jacob wiped her mouth, and handed her a glass of water that she accepted with trembling hands. What had happened to her? Whatever it was had baffled the doctor, who hadn't been able to do anything after his arrival. In fact, shortly before Samantha woke up, they had discussed the possibility of moving her to the hospital.

He hadn't been able to make a decision about that yet, and he was more than happy that now he wouldn't need to. But that still meant he didn't have a clue about what was going on. The doctor however, now that he was faced with a patient that had awoken, probably wanted to make himself useful again. "Can you look at me Samantha?" the doctor asked.

She turned to him, although Jacob wasn't even sure she understood what was going on. Her movements were too slow, as if she hardly knew what her body was for. Samantha needed his help, and as all he could offer her right now was comfort, that was exactly what he did when he sat down next to her and laid his arm across her shoulder. The moment he felt her stiffen he realized how bad the situation really was, but thankfully she quickly relaxed into him.

"Good Samantha," the doctor said as she was facing him. "Tell me, do you know who you are?"

The merest nod of her head was the only sign she gave that she did know. Of course she did, she'd already responded to her name hadn't she? And this quack dared to call himself a doctor? If Jacob wasn't so worried about Samantha he might have thrown the man out.

"Excellent. Now, can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

"Four," was the hoarse reply.

She'd spoken! Jacob felt as if his heart could explode from happiness, and he took back every unkind word about the doctor he'd ever thought of. But the questioning continued as Samantha was asked about the date, the names of all the people in the room, and several current events, including the name of the president and the situation with the transgenics. But throughout the entire examination, she managed to dodge every question that had to do with her earlier behavior.

"Excellent," the doctor once more said as he finished his last question, before turning to Jacob. "She doesn't appear to have suffered any brain damage, but as I'm still not sure what it was that she suffered from, I'd heartily recommend a visit to the hospital so that they can take a look."

"Alright, thank you doctor." As the doctor didn't seem to make any move to leave, Jacob turned to Walter and asked him to lead the good man out. He had been helpful, especially with the ice thing, but he wanted to have a chance to talk to his wife alone. Samantha's behavior still bothered him, but it was obvious she didn't want to speak in front of the doctor.

Exchanging pleasantries, the doctor was politely, but firmly, escorted to the door by Walter while Jacob turned to Samantha. "What happened my love?"

Instead of answering, Samantha looked at him while tears started to fall from her eyes. As she then opened her arms in a silent request for even more support, he gathered her in his arms and pressed his lips against her forehead. "It's alright now. It's over."

For a moment the silent shaking as she cried halted, but that was only temporary before she spoke up. "No, it's not. It's never going to be alright again."

What was she talking about? "What do you mean honey?"

"It was her."

"What was who?" Now he was really lost in the conversation.

"That lying bitch!" Samantha screamed in his shoulder.

She was cursing. Samantha never did that, or so rarely that the fact that she did drew his attention more than her actual words. Not that he missed those, or was any less confused about them. "Who? What are you so sad about."

"The bitch killed him."

"Killed who?"

"My father of course," Samantha answered while raising her head from his protective embrace, allowing him to finally see her eyes. The dark and gentle pools he loved so much, were no longer gentle. Instead they looked as if they embodied pure hatred.

"Noir? But you knew that already didn't you?"

"I did. I just never knew what her real name was."

She knew who Noir was? But how? "Who? How did you know?"

Samantha ignored his questions though, instead being immersed in memories. "She drugged me, made me forget what I'd learned that day. She knew that I'd figure it out, and the effects of the drug must have remained active for long after she did that to me."

This didn't make any sense, she had never met Noir. "Samantha, who are you talking about?"

Those cold and harsh eyes turned on him again, and when she spoke her next words it was in a voice that promised retribution. "Dawn Summers, Noir."

X.X.X

Had she been anyone else, a smile would have crossed Dawn's face when she heard 452's question. "I meant just that. Who said I'd accepted the mission?"

"You're here aren't you?" the poor confused girl asked. This was probably starting to be a bit too much for her.

"Max, may I call you Max?" Not waiting for an answer, Dawn licked her lips, tasting the coppery blood collected there, before she continued. "Max, I've spend about a dozen years looking for you, pumping millions of dollars into the search. Do you really think I'd throw all that away because of some fool who thinks I'm a common killer?"

"You didn't come here to kill her?" Logan asked from near the door he'd just entered through.

"Hello mister Cale, what kept you so long?"

He didn't seem to like her being here. Now, why would that be? "Your friend kept me distracted for a while."

"Friend? Who are you talking about?"

"Bernie," came the heated reply.

Ah yes, he probably felt betrayed by that. "I'm sorry to hear you lost your friendship, but it was necessary for me to have someone close to you. You'd been involved since the beginning."

"What are you talkin' about woman?" 452—no, Max—threatened.

"There was a broadcast in 2019, the first time one of your brothers and sisters were mentioned in Seattle. I think that's what called you here as well. Anyway, that message got my attention and with my attention came the need for information. Eyes Only was someone who'd be able to provide me with that information."

A flicker from Max's eyes told Dawn that the woman was one of the few around here who'd figured out that Logan was Eyes Only. For some reason that disappointed her. She'd expected that more of these people had found out. "You're sayin' that you were usin' him?"

"Using, helping, whatever you want to call it. Yes."

"Helping? If you were helping him, then why did you let your pet torturer inject me with a virus that would kill him?"

She talked about it like that, and still these other transgenics hadn't figured it out? At least Original Cindy had already shown she was aware as well, but that still left these hundreds of others. "What pet torturer?" Logan asked.

"That bitch Renfro worked for her. But she hasn't explained yet why she injected me."

Dawn was getting a bit fed up about the woman's constant whining about the virus. She'd already allowed a large number of punches to get through because of it. Well, allowed was probably the wrong word, the X-5 was good after all. "Don't be daft woman. I had nothing to do with that. When did this happen anyway?"

"Hours before she tried to kill every transgenic in Manticore."

The timing was crucial here, and Dawn considered it. The most logical sequence of events would be that Elizabeth had destroyed Manticore after it lost its significance, but she'd already known Elizabeth had known about Max before she set the place on fire. And logic also told her that the woman must not have been certain of Max before she sent her out to kill Cale. "She didn't know yet."

"What didn't she know yet?"

"That you were the one I'd been looking for. Tell me, you were there when she died, weren't you?"

"Yes, but-"

"What were her last words? She must have told you something."

"To look for Sandeman," came the reply, although Max almost immediately seemed to regret saying those words. Dawn on the other hand only shook her head in wonder, that had been pretty clever of Elizabeth. Not pointing directly to her, but still sending the transgenic on a chase that would get her noticed.

If Max had looked a bit harder that is. "You didn't look very hard then, did you?"

"Of course I did."

"I would have known if you did." Or would she? That whole virus thing had happened without her knowledge. Not that she really blamed Elizabeth for it, but she wasn't happy that she hadn't known about it. It did endanger the life of someone she used to gather information after all. Well, in that case she should have informed Elizabeth to leave Eyes Only alone. Not that it mattered, that part had worked out quite fine.

Max didn't seem to believe her though and only looked at her. And as she felt the weight of the stare, Dawn considered her current situation for the first time. There was a horde of transgenics circled around her, all carrying guns and acting as if they were willing to kill her in a heartbeat. Man, these people really had some issues with that fire, didn't they?

Of course, she should have known that something would go wrong here as well. So much preparation; she had put so much time and effort into getting here and convincing Max about what needed to be done. And for what? So that they could be ruined the moment someone showed up who was supposed to be dead?

It had been hard enough to convince whatshisname that she should be allowed to get in, as she was the only one able to kill the Terakans. Giving up her weapons had been expected, but there were always ways to conceal some of them. Especially when they weren't made from metal.

The knife she'd used to kill the Terakans was a prime example of that. And despite the fact that she really didn't like the way the weapon had been created, she was starting to get used to having a slightly magical weapon around. It had worked too, so maybe once she got back she could tell Edward he was allowed to use magic.

Dawn almost started laughing about that idea, but her chest hurt too much for such an action and she winced instead. No, some runes on a knife made from the bone of a demon was a completely different category from active magic.

"Why are you so quiet?" Max suddenly demanded, shocking Dawn out of her thoughts again.

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"Yeah, about how you lied to me," whatshisname growled.

Before Dawn had a chance to answer though, Max had already interfered. "It doesn't matter right now Mole. She's on our side, I think."

Ah, so he was called Mole. "Of course I am. How did you figure I was going to save your friend without any weapons?"

"Sacrifice yourself?" A glance at his nearly expressionless face told her he was being half-serious, so she turned the glance into a glare. "What? It was the whole enemy of my enemy thing. Solving two problems at once."

Dawn had had enough though, and decided it was time to tell them why she was here. "Alright people, listen up. As you are aware, there is a group who wants to destroy humanity. Now, this isn't a very unusual occurrence, but this particular group is one that I'd like to see dead. Max here, is the key to their defeat."

"Impressive intelligence gathering," Max mocked.

A tiny smile was all the reply Dawn gave that. "These people call themselves Familiars, ruled by a group known as the Conclave. There are a number of positions within that group, but the most important one is that of High Priestess. But you already know this as well."

"Yep," Max continued her annoying behavior. Probably wondering when the next excuse was going to come to hit her. At least she would try to restrain herself with Cale near. Or so Dawn hoped.

"As a matter of fact, you already know most of what I can tell you. How one of these Familiars, a man named Sandeman, rebelled and created you. And how one of this man's sons is at this very moment busy trying to kill all of you."

Now was the moment of truth and Dawn took a deep breath, ignoring the pain that caused her. "However, there are things you do not know. Things that will help you destroy this group. Things that only I can provide."

"And why would we trust you?" Max demanded to know. At least things seemed to be the way they should be again.

"Because you don't have a choice."

"We don't have a choice? Really? How did you come up with that little fantasy?"

For a moment Dawn debated telling Max that everybody she cared about in the outside world would be killed if she only gave the order. But while it would be interesting to see how the transgenic would react to that, it wouldn't help if they'd work together later on. "Because at this very moment, Ames White has retrieved his son. Which means he won't have any problem with killing you now. And he will kill you if you don't do anything. The Conclave might be hidden in the shadows, but that doesn't mean they don't have access to the tools a job like this requires."

"We can hold them off, we did so at Jam Pony."

"Don't be a fool woman," Dawn hissed, now getting angry at Max' obtuseness. "You and your kind are all that the Conclave thinks of as standing between them and their goal. How do you plan to hold of a bombing run? Yes, you can hide, but only if they use conventional payloads. He won't have any problems killing you from a distance now. You my good people, are on a clock."

For the first time the transgenics around her seemed to understand the real danger of Ames White and the group he represented. So far all confrontations had been at the personal level, but now that it had been explained to them that this wouldn't remain so they started to get the idea. They were soldiers, and understood the dangers of warfare, but even so they had never thought about the effects of a total war.

"And what do you think we should do about this?" a transgenic she didn't know asked.

Good. They were starting to listen to her. "I'm sure you all know what the best defense is. You don't need me to tell you that. What I can do to help you in that-"

"I can't reach Sara," Logan interrupted her as he switched off his cellphone.

Not that she cared. "Of course not. She's dead. Now, I can help with-"

Again he interrupted her. "You knew White was going after them." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you stop him then? If you're so concerned about humanity. It's not like you wouldn't be able to do it."

"There were more important things to consider."

"More important than the life of a woman trying to protect her nephew? And what about Bridget?"

Dawn had to resist rolling her eyes, of course they were. She did wonder who this Bridget was though. "Who?"

"Bridget, the guard you killed when you arrived here. Who you apparently killed for no reason at all."

"Oh, her." Dawn shrugged, now that she was more or less accepted by these people the transgenic had simply turned into another person she'd killed. "I killed her for the best reason possible. She tried to kill me."

"You didn't have to kill her."

"Actually, I didn't have a lot of choice. If you really want to blame someone, blame your friend there who informed the guards. Blame Dave who informed her, or blame these people for setting up a decent defense. But if you want me to feel guilty, you've got a lot of work ahead of you."

Dawn was about to turn back to her speech, when Max spoke up. "So you don't mind killing people or sacrificing them. But you still say you wanna save humanity. You see, somehow that doesn't work for me."

Okay, now this ridiculousness was starting to get annoying. One person bothering her with stupid questions wasn't a big problem, but when more of them started doing so she needed to put a stop to it. "I had a choice, and I chose the many over the few."

"What many?"

"The ones you wouldn't have been able to save if I hadn't stopped the Terakans," Dawn bit out. "Yes, people have died because of my actions. Are you seriously trying to tell me I'm the only one for who this counts here? You? The one who rejected Eyes Only initial offer to work with him? Do I really need to remind you of what the effects were of that rejection?"

Max flinched at that reminder, but Dawn really didn't care. If they wanted to play it hard, she was more than willing to accommodate them. "That's not fair," Logan said, protecting his girl.

"Right, because it was different from my actions, how? Don't presume too much people, you've all got blood on your hands. And not only that of people other than yourself, some of you have hunted each other. Maybe not out of choice, but you hunted them nonetheless." Looking over the crowd, Dawn could see she had them. They might not like her actions, but they understood them. "Yes, there will always be casualties. Young, old, weak, strong, male, and female. Everybody dies, but individual lives aren't important. The result is the only thing that matters."

Some of the people around her nodded, some simply stared at her in defiance, not agreeing but not planning to interfere either. Most didn't know what to think of it all, but she would resolve their doubts shortly. A quick explanation of her plans and she'd leave them alone to think it over. No doubt they'd end up agreeing with her, but she wanted them to have had a choice in the matter.

They had to have given their obvious approval to the plan, so that they couldn't later tell her she'd forced them. Taking another deep breath, she started to try to convince those who were the hardest to convince, those who were the most important. If she managed to convince the leaders, the rest would follow. And while they debated, she could go deal with that other problem. "Right, it's like this."

X.X.X

"I want her dead!" Carlos roared loud enough that every being in the warehouse could hear him. Which, Charlie Brooks thought, wasn't saying all that much. What was a telling sign however was how the master vampire had changed his plans for Noir about a dozen times already. The effect of which was best illustrated by the way none of the other vampires were paying a lot of attention to his ravings.

Within half an hour he would change his mind again, telling them to recruit her, or maybe simply bribe her. As if it mattered in any way. The vampire was obviously losing his grip on reality, probably after having realized the same thing he had. Noir would have interrogated at least one of the vampires or demons she'd fought. So by now she would know who was behind the ambush, because her victim would have talked.

Despite the many times he'd seen one of her victims, Charlie had never seen any proof that someone had successfully resisted her interrogations. If a competent torturer had the time, like Noir had last night, there was no end to the things that could be done to a body to make it suffer. Especially when the victim had a body that regenerated as fast as that of a demon.

He shivered at that realization, the last thing he wanted was to fall into the hands of Noir and endure something like that. Luckily he didn't think she'd see him as anything but just another fledgling that would have to be killed. Being thankful that he'd die quickly, how low the mighty had fallen.

He, the all powerful undead mage Bonecrusher, once the most feared being in all the world. Well, in World of Warcraft at least. In real life he might never have actually had a reputation that even came close, but that didn't really matter did it? Oh, how he'd enjoyed playing games like that. And how he'd suffered when the Pulse destroyed the servers that contained his characters.

Bah. 2009 was a sucky year in every way, so that was just one aspect of it. The only good thing that had come from it was how Mansfield had suddenly disappeared again. But still he still spent nights wondering how such a lowly bunch of terrorists could possibly have had such an influence on his life. No more games, no more Microsoft bashing on Slashdot, and no more simple relaxing while looking at a ripped DVD.

"Go out and hunt her, now!" Carlos screamed, obviously desperate.

"But master, the sun is still out, we can't go out until-" The brave minion was cut off, and not only his words. Apparently the master vampire kept a sword near his throne, and judging from the way the minion's head bounced of the floor before exploding into ashes, he was very capable of using it. Good. That was the kind of information he wanted.

"Noob!" Argh, how he hated that name. Had it really been necessary to act as if he was a complete and utter nerd? He might not be married, but that had more to do with his job than any nerdness.

But, he didn't have time for thinking about that. Dracula called, and Igor had to show up. Or was it an Addams that called, with him as Lurch? Nah, Carlos didn't deserve to be compared to them. "Yes master?" Ugh. He really was only one step away from being called Igor.

"I've been thinking."

Brooks listened, but he silently told himself that thinking was probably a rather big word for what the vampire had done. "Yes master?"

"I believe that Noir might have possibly tried to interrogate one of my men during the night."

"Yes master?" If he needed to say master, he'd use it at every opportunity, always go for the annoyance factor.

And his two-word answers did seem to start ticking Carlos off, although the master vampire tried not to show it. "You know more about the woman than I do. Tell me, how big is the chance that she succeeded in finding out that I was behind the attack."

"I wouldn't worry about that master," Charlie groveled. "It is unlikely that she'll show up anytime soon."

"Anytime soon? She'll come then?"

"Yes master. But it will take her some time to figure out where you are."

Carlos glowered at him. "This doesn't make me happy."

"No master." Wow! Variation!

"She might not know my name though."

Man, talk about grasping at straws. Time to rid the guy of delusions, let's talk bluntly. "You're a master vampire. Surely you must've tortured a couple of people."

"Of course, that's just a way of doing business." A ridiculous and ineffective way of doing business.

"Right, now there are two things about torture that everybody knows but for some reason seems to repress."

"Really?" came the sarcastic sounding reply. "And what's a noob like you know about that?"

Cut it out with the noob thing already! He wasn't a noob, had never been a noob, and would never become one. Brooks took a deep breath to calm himself. Huh, why did vampires do that anyway? They, he, didn't need it. But then again, the whole vampire thing didn't make a lot of sense anyway, like with the whole being dead but not being dead. There were times he wondered what it would be like to live in a world that made sense.

And how about the thing with the blood? He could feel the craving for it ever since he'd been turned, but that didn't mean he was able to understand it. How could drinking blood be beneficial? He had once heard vampirism described as an infliction that caused a lack of red blood cells, or was it something else? Hemo-somethings? Whatever. Anyway the question remains, how can drinking blood replenish those levels? Injections he could understand, if the blood-type of the donor was compatible, but-

"Well?" Raising his head Brooks suddenly remembered he was supposed to be talking to Carlos, not thinking over the way of the vampire.

"Oh, yeah well. Right. The torture thing. Like I said, there are two things about torture everyone knows. The most important one for the current circumstances is that everybody breaks. It doesn't matter how strong you are, how much you want to hide something. Unless you're the star of a Hollywood movie, you'll break."

"Yes, I know that."

"Uh, why did you ask me about all this then?" Brooks asked, before hastily tagging a master at the end of his question.

"Breaking isn't so much influenced by the victim, but by the torturer. Would Noir be willing to go far enough? Would she be able to stand the suffering of her victims long enough to extract the information?"

"We're still talking about the same Noir here, aren't we? The one who I told you was also the Soldier Hunter? Who under that name routinely tortured her victims until she had the information she came for?"

Carlos didn't seem to be impressed by that speech, and expressed his displeasure by slowly taking out the sword again, causing Brooks to back off. "Watch your words minion. You're starting to reach a point where your usefulness no longer outweighs the satisfaction I'd get from killing you. You know that those victims were humans, not a more superior species like our own."

Right. Whatever, Brooks thought, Carlos was definitely not the only one who was starting to get pissed off here. "I know that, but their species is irrelevant. Master."

"Of course not. Demons are far more capable of holding out. Will she be able to continue long enough?"

This was ridiculous. Didn't the guy realize that was total nonsense? If she could torture a human being until they were practically dead, why the hell wouldn't she be able to do the same to something that wasn't even the same species? But it wasn't quite the right time yet, a little more patience was required. "Yes master."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes master."

"I'm not so sure. Now leave me." What? First he asked for expert advise, and then he decided not to actually accept it? Brooks had to resist shaking his head at his own folly of believing otherwise. It didn't matter who you worked for; a company, the government, or a freak of nature that called itself vampire. Nobody ever paid attention to the words of the expert who told them things they didn't want to hear.

That behavior was why he'd gotten out of the commercial world, only to find it still counted while working for the city of Chicago. And there he'd encountered the very same thing. Yes sir, open source applications are good enough for our purpose here. No sir, despite the fact that you pay a lot more for commercial products they don't add anything we need. Thinking of that discussion still pissed him off, they'd fired him for telling them the truth.

Of course, then the Committee had shown up with the usual offer he couldn't refuse. He'd accepted, what else could he do? Those first years hadn't exactly been a good experience, but eventually Mansfield had left and Baker took over the command of their unit. Which at the very least was a great improvement over the bastard. Until he returned to lead them again for a couple of years.

But even there he'd been treated with disdain by the non-techies. Not by everyone of course, and for some reason the field agents that did had a tendency to… not survive… their missions. Yet in the end it was always the same, and his personal conflicts with how the various operations were run started to take its toll. So, when the fool in front of him had come to turn him Brooks hadn't put up a lot of resistance, secure in the knowledge that the spells put on every member of his unit would ensure he kept his soul.

"Master?"

"What do you want?"

"Have you ever heard of the guy from the War Academy in Civilization?"

"What? Speak clearly fool. I don't have any time for your nonsense."

"I mean Sun Tzu, author of the Art of War."

Now Carlos seemed to get it. "Oh him, he's the guy who said some nonsense about how if you know your enemy you'll always win, isn't he? But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Actually, it is more like 'If you know both yourself and your enemy, you need not fear the end of a thousand battles.'"

"Who cares?" the vampire asked, while turning back to whatever he'd been doing before Brooks interrupted him.

Brooks however took a last look around in order to check if everything was right with the world. Carlos was fairly close, but not close enough to pose a threat, and everybody else was further away. "I've been studying Noir for years now, and have figured out the reasons behind some of her actions. And for the past couple of days I've been thinking about my future as well. In the end, I came to the conclusion that you don't fit within my plans for that."

"What?" Carlos asked while raising his head, only to be greeted by the sight of the gun Brooks had brought with him. "And what do you think you're gonna do with that? Hit me?"

Stupid vampire. Brooks didn't immediately answer, instead opting to first blow his former master's brain out. "No. Kill you. Moron."

At the loud report of his gun, every creature in the room had stopped and they were now all alternately looking at Brooks, and the brainless fool lying on the floor. Spot the difference guys, he thought sarcastically, but also realized that he wasn't done yet. "What are you looking at? He was going to lead you to your doom, and I didn't feel like going there. From this moment on, I'm your new leader."

"He ain't dead yet, noob," a vampire he wasn't fond of anyway told him. Obviously a warning was needed, so he lifted his gun again and another vampire ended up without the brain he'd never used anyway.

"Don't call me that." Even Brooks himself was surprised at the pleasant tone he managed. "And besides, that is one easily solved problem."

Walking over to the sword, he put the gun in the back of his pants. An action during which he was happy that nobody could see his face, as the damn thing was hot enough to make him flinch. Taking up the sword he once again looked around to see if anyone intended to stop him, but when that didn't happen he walked back to Carlos' body and chopped the vampire's head off.

As expected, the body exploded into dust and Brooks looked each and everybody present in the face. "Now he's dead."

"Ah, yeah. He's dead. Don't you think so guys?" one of the younger vampires was quick to respond, and even urging his friends to agree.

"Right. Any other objections to me ruling around here?" The silence that followed was exactly the answer he liked. "Wonderful, now that leaves only one simple question."

This time the silence continued on, but he had no intention of breaking it. These fools might not understand the true meaning of the question, but that didn't matter. This moment was for himself. "What question, master?"

Ohh… he liked that. Master, he savored the feeling for a short while before answering with a wide smile on his face. "Now that I've got all this power, will I use it for good, or for awesome?"

* * *

Post-fic comments: Thank you for reading. Next week you'll be faced with the epilogue. Yes, that means this story is nearly finished. Feedback will most likely get me working on the sequel sooner though. Yes, that is what is commonly known as a hint.

ingvardk, thank you for your comments.


	18. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Life was good, Ames White thought while he entered the lobby of the Seattle NSA office. His cheerful greeting even surprised the receptionist, but for the first time in a long time he had a reason to be happy.

Not only had retrieving his son been easier than he'd thought, but with the boy safe in his new home he was free to fully commit to the destruction of 452, and Eyes Only of course. But for now apprehending the cyberterrorist was no longer a high priority. Oh, that bitch who had been his late wife's sister had talked a great deal about how the man would get Ray again. But then, he smiled again, while her words had been annoying, actually snapping that weak neck of hers had been fun.

Or as much fun as it could be to kill a normal human, all that he was really interested in at the time was taking Ray back home. And while the boy had still been a bit difficult, he was now coming to terms with the new situation. Despite all the weaknesses that his wife and her family had inflicted on the boy, Ames knew that he'd taught him well.

But, as he'd said before, the most important thing that he'd need to do, now that Ray was where he belonged, was to kill 452. How could Sandeman have even thought of creating her? She was a danger to everything he and his kind were, but still the man had created her. First all the other freaks, who while annoying weren't nearly the threat 452 was, and then hidden among them he had placed the most dangerous of all. And that man was supposed to be his father?

No, aside from the good genetics he'd been born with, he was in no way like his father. It had already been years ago that he'd formally had his name changed, but once he'd destroyed 452 his family would once again be a proud one. A family that Ray would be proud to continue, once humanity was destroyed after the Coming.

Stepping into the elevator, Ames didn't even pay attention to the way the other people remained outside, opting to wait a bit longer if that meant they didn't have to share the small space with someone wearing a maniacal grin like that. The whole trip up to his office was spent thinking up imaginative ways to get rid of 452. Dropping a nuclear bomb in that wasteland would have been so good, in fact he could already imagine the look on her face when she realized what was happening.

First there would be the sudden flash of light, that would likely blind her in its intensity. Maybe it wouldn't do so permanently, but by then that would hardly matter, now would it? But before the sound of the explosion had reached her the oxygen would be sucked away, leaving her without air to breath. Once again that was only temporary, as the air would return soon accompanied by the raging inferno that would strip the flesh of her bones, before disintegrating those as well. It was a shame though that the initial shock wave would have already killed her by then, or the radiation would have taken care of that.

Oh, how many ways to die from just one single explosion. Shaking his head in the regret that he'd never get the authorization to carry out a mission like that, he stepped out of the elevator. But if not a nuke, maybe something lighter? Like a thermobaric bomb? That would still ensure that she'd suffer for the brief time it would take her to die. Unfortunately, with a sigh of regret he had to admit that it was unlikely that the use of one of those would be authorized either.

Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't simply do it anyway. After all, his job wasn't something that really mattered to him. Sure, the position had its positive points, but it wouldn't last long once humanity had become extinct.

"Sir. You're back," Otto said in a surprised voice when Ames was finally spotted by his assistant.

"Everything went smoother than I'd expected Otto, and so I decided to come in earlier." Even Otto was obviously surprised by his good mood, but now that he was paying more attention to the man he could see that something was bothering him. Something had happened, he was sure of it. But it wasn't the death of 452, he had checked the news on a daily basis but that fortunate event hadn't happened. Not that he'd expected it to, even something as supposedly good as the Order of Teraka wouldn't have much luck in killing his nemesis.

But as they'd had served their purpose in keeping everyone distracted from Ray, he wouldn't complain about the fact that he might now get to snap 452's neck as well. Although, if the bombs didn't pan out he might be satisfied with shooting her. Repeatedly, for hours, in non-lethal places. "That's good to hear sir, but I'm afraid we have a bit of a problem."

What was it this time? Asking that question didn't earn him anything like a reply he'd expected though. "Noir is in Seattle? Are you certain? Why would she come here?"

"We presume that she's here to kill the leader of the transgenics, 452." No, impossible. The damned woman had turned down his offer, despite the generous fee and the knowledge that the Order would be there to help her if it became necessary.

"Why haven't I heard anything on the news about this? That woman is usually one of the top stories while she's working."

"We managed to keep the reporters distracted with information on the transgenics. They were so involved with running stories about that they must have missed Noir."

"Unlikely, but it doesn't matter anyway," White said before switching to more important matters. "Are there any ideas on who hired her, or how we can stop her?"

"None sir. Both local law-enforcement and the National Guard have been redeployed to increase the possibility of catching her, but the likelihood of that happening is rather small."

"When did she arrive?" There had to be a way of figuring out why the assassin had come after all, and he intended to do so.

"The rumors started the same day you left." And nobody had seen the connection? White had to admit that he wasn't really surprised by the lack of capabilities displayed by his people, but he would have expected at least some comment. Otto continued though, and he mentally rewound the conversation so he could comment on it.

"You're telling me that you know the time frame during which she arrived, but you still don't know who it is?"

His subordinate wasn't quite able to hide the wince at the harsh tone, but rallied himself pretty well. "Sorry sir, but there is a team here that's hunting for her as well."

"What kind of team?"

"I'm not sure. I think they're a task force that has been assigned to Noir."

"Are they just as useful as you were?" White knew that he was starting to lose his temper, but he really didn't want a situation like this immediately after arriving at his office.

Otto just remained stoic though, either used to his outbursts or not noticing they weren't really fair. But no, that thought wasn't really fair to Otto either, the man was far from stupid after all. "They haven't been very willing to share information, sir."

White furrowed his brow in surprise. Cooperation between special units wasn't always very good, but he hadn't expected this kind of resistance in a situation like this. "Why not?"

"They didn't tell me sir. All I've managed to get out of the men is that their boss decided on that, and they don't really like him."

"Well, it isn't the leader's job to be popular," White huffed, confident in the knowledge that he was just as popular with his own people.

"No sir, but it looks as if there's more to this. Apparently the man leading them now is the same that led them years ago."

"So?" What was so strange about that? After all, incompetence wasn't usually awarded with promotions.

"Sir, they believed he'd died. They thought Noir had killed him." Now that was indeed interesting. A former target of Noir hunting her? That might still become interesting.

….…

Walking into his office, White was still considering the information provided by Otto. It wasn't as much as he'd hoped, neither on Noir nor on the freaks, but it was all he had to work with. The entire situation was far too complex for his liking. At the moment there were simply too many things that might go wrong, and if any of those things did blow up in his face…

"Hello special agent White."

Spinning around, White had his gun aimed at the man before he'd even managed to finish his sentence. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mansfield, special agent Mansfield actually."

"And when did you start working here?" Something was off, the man didn't act like one of his subordinates should.

A slight smile appeared on the man's face. "I think you're acting under the wrong impression here. I'm not one of your people, in fact I'm here for a completely different reason."

"And what reason might that be?" White bit out.

"I'm here to hunt Noir of course."

Finally he understood who the man had to be, and he lowered his gun. "You're the leader of the group Otto spoke off."

"Otto? Ah of course, agent Gottlieb." The man nodded to himself in realization, but didn't let that distract him for long. "And yes, I've been sent here to clean up your mess."

"My mess? What are you talking about?" Even as he said the words, White could feel his heart speed up.

"Please, don't try to fool me. You didn't really believe that the Conclave was unaware of your attempt to hire Noir, did you brother White?"

Brother White? Before answering, White walked to the door in order to assure himself there was no chance of anyone listening in. "The Conclave sent you?"

"I believe that's what I just said."

Damn. But the man hadn't said anything about Ray, so that part of his actions might still be hidden from their prying eyes. "And your job is to kill Noir?"

"If no other option presents itself, yes."

"Other option?" What was this?

Mansfield didn't seem disturbed by the question though. "Yes, Noir has taken care of several annoying factors for us in the past, although she hasn't been that easy to manipulate since she left the States."

"She worked for the Conclave?"

"Not voluntarily, and there are reasons to suspect she knows about us now."

The assassin knew about them? Then why would she be allowed to live? He asked that question, and it proved that the man before him didn't follow all the Conclave's orders to the letter. That might prove useful in the future.

"There is more to Noir than meets the eye. And she has become exceedingly proficient in cleaning up some of the messes that had been left behind in the past. In fact, we've even used her name to perform missions once in a while."

Now that came as a surprise. "Why? And wouldn't that be dangerous? She might try to come after us."

Mansfield waved that concern away. "Bah, she's only human. Some of those sent on the missions were killed by her, but others survived. And as an added benefit this has ensured that the authorities never realized her other identity."

"But you know," White breathed.

"Yes, I know. Your call on her service was useful in that regard as it allowed us to identify her out of the three people we suspected."

"And now that you know, what are you planning to do?"

"My plans aren't completely formed yet, although like I said, I'd prefer to keep her alive. But I think it should be possible to set up a trap now that she'll be coming after you."

White shook his head in a futile attempt to clear up the confusion those words created, but was still forced to ask the question. "Why would she come after me?"

"Because you broke her primary rule of course."

"What primary rule?"

"She hates, no hate is the wrong worth. She absolutely loathes the Order of Teraka, and you told her she'd be working with them."

"I guess that wasn't a really good thing to say then was it?" White answered, still not truly concerned about this.

"No it wasn't, and to be honest I'm rather surprised that you tried to hire her anyway."

"Why is that?"

This finally seemed to surprise the other. "You mean to tell me that you don't know?"

"Know what?"

Mansfield didn't immediately answer though, instead he started pacing around the office. "I can't believe they never told you. Why wouldn't they have told you? It doesn't make any sense."

The muttering started to get on White's nerves, and so he demanded an answer. "What didn't they tell me?"

"Calm down, I'll tell you," Mansfield told him, "I doubt the Conclave would want to hide this information from you now. It's very simple actually. Noir became famous by killing those people who made up the Committee during the time between 2005 and 2009. However, she did not restrict herself to the leaders.

"In fact, a number of scientists and the likes ended up on the wrong side of her guns as well. The thing that concerns you however is one particular genetic scientist who became a victim during her purges as well." White couldn't help feeling surprised as he figured out which scientist that would have been, and Mansfield was quick to confirm it. "Yes, you understand correctly. Noir is the one that killed your father."

Hundreds of thoughts sped through his mind at hearing those words. He hated his father for his cowardly betrayal, but he also couldn't stand the fact that the man had been killed by something as common as a human assassin.

"Easy brother White. Vengeance has its place, but there is no need for it yet."

He wanted to deny that statement, but before he got the chance a knock on his door directed his attention elsewhere. "Yes?"

Otto entered then, but froze when he noticed Mansfield. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't know you had company."

"It's alright Otto, I take it you know agent Mansfield?"

"We've spoken briefly, however I wasn't aware that he had arrived here."

"Don't bother yourself with it. I take it that you have something for me?" White asked, pointing at the letter his subordinate was carrying.

"Yes sir." With a couple of steps Otto had reached him and handed over the letter. "It was delivered by messenger, and is addressed to both you and agent Mansfield."

"What?" Mansfield asked while walking over to look at the letter. "Any indication from who it might be?"

"No sir, but considering they used a messenger service to have it delivered we can find out."

"Well what are you waiting for boy? Do it," Mansfield growled, making White understand immediately why his people weren't fond of the man. However, it did have its intended effect as Otto left after looking at him for confirmation.

As the door closed behind the man, both Familiars turned their attention to the letter. "Well? Open it already."

"I will," White said but first took a look at the envelope. It was exactly as Otto had said, both of their names were on it. "Your first name is Jonas?"

"Yes, although there aren't many who use it. Even less when you count those who know that I'm here. Not to mention the fact that they wouldn't use a letter to communicate with us."

Nodding to himself, White took a letter opener and slit the envelope open. Calmly he then put the opener back on his desk, before taking out the piece of paper. But when he opened the letter itself and read the two words written on it, he couldn't help but drop it on the ground in shock.

Mansfield quickly picked it up, and he too let out a hiss of surprise. "She can't be serious can she?"

"You're the one that's been hunting her for all this time. Something that she apparently knows about. What makes you think she can't be serious?"

"But this," the man waved the letter in his direction. "She can't possibly think that she'll succeed, can she?"

"I don't know, but I think it might be best if we took her down before she can."

"For once brother White, we are in agreement. _Target: Conclave._ The temerity of it."

_She will be created to live as a Slayer's sister.  
She will be created to govern worlds.  
She will be created to govern death._

_A lady from the New World will she be._

_The Green Lady, where it concerns the seers.  
The Black Lady, where it concerns her victims.  
The New Lady, where it concerns her subjects._

_Through death will her name become known.  
Through death will she be shaped.  
Through death will she conquer._

_Life will she bring forth.  
Life is what she'll protect.  
Life is the thing that matters most._

_The maiden with the black hands will come and clean her heritage.  
The maiden with the black hands will be hunted by all.  
The maiden with the black hands will be found by those worthy._

_The darkness will start a new dynasty.  
The darkness will start the hidden wars.  
The darkness will start a new world._

_Light will live on.  
Light will end the wars.  
Light will be the end of all._

_- The first prophecy of light and darkness._

_Victoire, last priestess of the Soldats, 1123_

* * *

Post-fic comments: The end. No more. Until the sequel at least. Which will come faster if I recieve more feedback. 

Allen Pitt, thanks for the comments. It's also good to hear you enjoyed Noir. Anyway, as this story was more of a 'what would happen if...' idea that I had, there was little interaction with the Scoobies. The normal series has a lot more of this and the next couple of stories there will focus far more on the interaction. Oh, and the Harry Potter story really isn't as bad as it sounds. After all, Dawn/Kirika is the same loveable, magic hating, remorseless killer as in the other stories. The last thing I'd do is mess with her hatred of all things magic...


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